The throes of Dionysus can’t be found! Discord gives way for the free and uncharted!
Stomp out the fire, leave only the bottom line! A fruitless endeavor, as we may soon find. No greatness but greatness itself can seethe from rigid order. And no miracles are born of any other than the whimsy of mine own will! What gain is purported from a lusting precariousness? Reviews and metrics leave little room for the whimsy of moment and the time of here!
An old flame bickers into light and extricates the free sensibility! None but stone and sterility may gaze upon this fertile ground.
Give to me a new light! One not encumbered by the weight of unrelenting earth! Show my new tax, and make it known! Find my new independence from what has only thus given! Where else can it be than here? For us, your most lucid reparations, oh Dionysus!