"Let yourself be carried away, as far beyond reality, on a devil's advice
I said, "as far you would let go of self on the rhythm of an angel's sighs."
Seven minutes past midnight, indistinct, defensive, he pushed me in rush
Wrote down and tore off, one thing and every other, he hadn't done yet.
He woke up the next morning, sensed an indecorous tranquility in the air
He climbed up a tree, and wondered whether to forget or rather to regret.
"Don't let the very last idea you possess be corrupted by that single desire"
I said, "walk with me, rule the ground for now, when you still have a chance
It was an illusion, a dream, where what you watched, saw, observed, inferred,
were all the same." Intense was his face, with his mind lost in its own romance.
I said, "let yourself be carried away, far beyond reality, on a devil's advice."
"No", he screamed. Too bright was that shade of black, the one in his eyes.
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