,,.-†=%§¶# #¶§%=†-.,,
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,,,,,.-†=% %% %=†-.,,,,,
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,,,,,.-†=% % % %=†-.,,,,,
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,,.-†=%§¶# ## # # # # Fey Bells # # # ## # #¶§%=†-.,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ # #-----------# # ¶§%=†-.,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ §%=†-.,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% Envelop Me In Noise... A Sandstorm Of %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,,,.-†= Sound... And Sure Enough, Between The =†-.,,,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% Grains There Are Calls From Other %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ Worlds - §%=†-.,,,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ ¶§%=†-.,,,
,,.-†=%§¶# Distant Wailing Sirens, Coming Closer #¶§%=†-.,,
,.-†=%§¶## But Staying Out Of Reach... Telling Me ##¶§%=†-.,
,,.-†=%§¶# That Something Is Happening, Perfuming #¶§%=†-.,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ Me With Someone Elses Excitement ¶§%=†-.,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ §%=†-.,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% The Phone Ringing, A Certain Phone From %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,,,.-†= A Job Long Lost, Urging For Someone To =†-.,,,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% Pick Up %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ §%=†-.,,,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ ¶§%=†-.,,,
,,.-†=%§¶# And At Times, When I'M Almost Drowning #¶§%=†-.,,
,.-†=%§¶## In This Metaphorical Sand, Breathing ##¶§%=†-.,
,,.-†=%§¶# It, The Veil Is Next To Breached... I #¶§%=†-.,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ Hear Flutes, Sines, Repeating Themes ¶§%=†-.,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ Like Were They Calls From Rubbery §%=†-.,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% Birds... Deafeningly Loud! %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,,,.-†= But Like A Mirage, Constantly =†-.,,,,,,
,,,,,.-†=% Evaporating And Reforming. %=†-.,,,,,
,,,,.-†=%§ And Not Really Touching My Eardrums. §%=†-.,,,,
,,,.-†=%§¶ ¶§%=†-.,,,
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