The tension keeps the network. Nor its rays become. Emerge from the abyss filled with meaning. As a metal grid to keep the world from falling. Currently stopping time and define the space. -rays or pulsating, wrap, break, cut. Through them is refracted light, a sign of God. Between life and death of boundaries is an enigma. The network leaves a trace on the skin, sinks times have the hide. Who will open the door, remove cobwebs. These rays to light-or keep love fatal. So, can the illusion of love, death move? Ariadne thread.

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