One yearning, one infancy,
Trembling softly from the edges to the core,
We emerge from a grave of churning seas,
Knowing nothing of the world that came before.
Aletheia
From birth, we are blinded.
It's real; it's raw.
The dream is to find it...
Aeries, aeidō, aeidō
(For the air, I sing, I sing,)
Aphanē o psūkhē, para ego
(For the unseen spirit beyond myself,)
Eirene zēto,
(For the pursuit of harmony,)
Anemos antiphone
(For the wind sounding in answer,)
Ambrotos isoraphē
(For immortal nourishment.)
♪
Life beckons the soul again,
From the mountains,
From the rivers to the shore,
But I can't release this memory -
Of a phantom, of a wish - or something more?
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