A spiral orbit circumnavigates the axis
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Fragments, threads of the origin's shape
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The dreary synopsis of an aeon-old praxis
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Encircles the thoughts from which minds escape
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"And when my soul and spirit unites
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in a oneness of the four elements
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I'll be the magician of cosmic rites
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Using astral instruments"
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Like the released psyche of the creator
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Swirling around the origin's indicator
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Visions from the spiral generator
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E.S.P. Mirage!
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I intersect the shining pulsator
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When I travel in this spirit simulator
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Receiving visions from the generator
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E.S.P. Mirage!
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Perplexed by the questions of our existence
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The patterns in external reality
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Secretive formulas along an unthinkable distance
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Force the thinking into unexplored philosophy
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An entity which spins in the galaxy hurricane
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With a plasticity changing by the age
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The director of periodic meteor rain
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Which seems to be framed by a mathematical cage
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Mother to events so violent
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But as no one hears it, it may be silent
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"Therefore my thinking I'll incubate
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and search in the duality of I and Me
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'cause from trumpets you can alienate
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But from silence you can't flee"
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Remotely viewing other planes
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Using my mind's eye to gaze
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As I detect the spiral's stains
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In microbes, mountains and every inch of space
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Trembling before its divinity
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It may be larger than infinity
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E.S.P. Mirage
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Vintersorg |