Sunday, May 10, 2015


Unknown and hidden,
And not,
Lacking light,
Called after the title,
Awakened and unite with,
Lodges of the lost word,
Will gather secret and teach.
We are stillborn,
And that suits us better and better,
Not by living,
The title of King.

There was, however,
Slides over the ocean bottom,
And into our,
Bays and estuaries,
Smiled at some inner secret,
The happiest person alive,
Burned alive,
Something in her ear,
That turned the Queen pale,
Since the barycenter is located below the,
Earth's surface.

They will look upon him,
Whom they have pierced,
One of the few,
To have purchased,
And read,
Yes; but they are not gone,
It is called a lunar eclipse,
In contrast,
The word transit,
Hides the more distant object,
Are known as,

The same way,
During the last times,
From these tortures and injustices,
That this vast Earth,
Will appear small to them,
As it had been filled with injustice and distress,
So much so,
On this earth,
Will find no shelter to seek refuge,
At such a time,
The Negro,
Called by the ignorant and bigoted peasants,
In preservation of the,
Foundation was established.

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