Peripsol: You tasted the sweet nectar, you’ve lost your share, but to console you my friend, you are sought ever-fresh elsewhere. Spread your wings, remember your lovely one, deal away with woes of Earth, commit here and hereafter, don’t you forget to dare, bravely move for your muse that is close yet light years away.
Fuomo: A thread is running through the world, that when a love, shyly may be born, forces conspire to conjoin hearts, minds and souls, so that there may be a chance of unio oppositorum, a great God of Triumph to be born, a Disk entwined by snakes, on wings of silver and gold, that a man and a woman become as One, refined together in great Alkhymi in joy and gladness, towering above the cosmic world. Wonders of ancient times difficult in those, where even darkness surprised on such a sudden, joint enterprise. I lay in ruin, my love has died, I look towards the stars with longing eyes. Perhaps I’ll search for her on dragon wings, I’ve lost her love on Earth, I’ve seen her face in the stars, a long way to travel it may be.
Amor: I have no need for that, I wreak havoc, and listen…
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