in.cantus (From enchant to disappointment, from the inside to the outside, from loneliness to sharing, the sounds float, rippling, in the air. Sometimes sweet, others aggressive, the refrained voice of the emotion reveals itself, inevitably, unravelling the colours of the soul. Time expands and compresses at the rhythm that moulds the interior of the world. First the moan, then the question. The restlessness of the fire that burns and lights up life. The final gesture is the faint light of a new path.)
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