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colors of the spectrum hum, the strings of nature’s amplitude. A forest dark, primeval threads, hidden by the shadow’s claim, the theme of life, as dust renewed, buried in discordant pain. A computation, as pure element, the basis of all fate, the process of the universe, immune to joy, and blind to state. And yet the beauty springs to life, amid the blindness and the strife, for in the art and musical strains, consciousness--- the meaning--- obtains and sings triumphant! |