Behold that a path is created from these traces of ink,

Letters join numbers

Sounds come forth manifesting the plasticity.

This is the direct outcome of the continuous war

The collision of the worlds of change and stability



One would sense the mind behind them

If only he could withdraw from the relentless alterations of its forms



I have swum against rivers of fallacy

Chaotic symmetry,

And have returned

From the point of weakness

To the root of triumph.



Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns

I travelled with the company of a triangle

To the dark corners of cosmos



Geometry in static



In frozen wells I left my seal for the future travellers

Sunken trilithons bear my signature

In wombs of yellow on the phosphoric remnants

Of organisims with consciousness long erosed



One would sense the mind behind them

If only he could withdraw from the relentless alterations of its forms

[Solo: Sotiris]



Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns

I travelled with the company of a triangle to the dark corners of cosmos



Geometry in static