Enigma,the patterns of melancholy.It is how you whisper.
Or how the lips dance,in their own mysterious trance.
But still,tormented by your own demons,you cry out,
In such a delight!
It is the way you are.
What are those shadows,those that dance around the corner,
In this tiny little room,in which you try to breathe?
Oh Yes,you will win! It is written on the stars.
Strength,O Mighty Thor!Where lies your golden hammer?
Is it hidden somewhere or just turned into dust?
Or how the lips dance,in their own mysterious trance.
But still,tormented by your own demons,you cry out,
In such a delight!
It is the way you are.
What are those shadows,those that dance around the corner,
In this tiny little room,in which you try to breathe?
Oh Yes,you will win! It is written on the stars.
Strength,O Mighty Thor!Where lies your golden hammer?
Is it hidden somewhere or just turned into dust?
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