THE DANGEROUS OPERA BEGINS.
It is not what the darkness brings, but the small offering of light in each hand, that will give back sight to the blind.
For which voice is yours? This one. Which heart is yours? This one.
To be heard against the roar of the sea, to make a stab at life, to come walking on like huge sails, is but a setting fire to this heart.
This life, your own voice, but is in your own hands.
Rampages of swollen seas, blizzards at the city centre. The storm taking the roof off your house. The great wind blowing over the land.
Go. THE DANGEROUS OPERA BEGINS.
But at least you know how to sing.
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