I am but a man, an ordinary man clenched in the opium–dream full forcingly inhabited by no other than yours truly. Trembling to marble medallions whole heartedly epithet, to that sweet harmonic voice so desperately needed to hear. A normal man greeted by such a voice awes him clearly in the manner startlingly brilliant, yet soft and elegant, that perceptibly ignited the fire in ones heart to the warmness in the cheek bares all truth in mind (few and far between) made to comprehend through means of intense volition, a word or formation of words to energetically angle them to description of something that has yet, no meaning.
A regular man in the presence of scrutinized greatness and I do apologize for failing to describe the outwardly placid marvel that is, and can only be, that voice. That voice, and I quote; by the almost magical melody, medulation, distinctness of that very voice– end quote, I don't know what possessed me to tell you this nor means am I trying to strike a reaction out of you, it felt like something you needed to know simply because *sigh*, you could come to a more probable conclusion than I, a regular man, perhaps entangled to the...