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In times encrypted on the membrane of the universe, beneath the cold veil of unknown realities, Humanity, with eyes welled with tears of questions, will gradually unravel the mystery from symbols. A thick curtain of incomprehensibility will disperse, like fog on the lakes at sunrise, And in the embrace of weeping mornings, the truth will shine, once concealed, now serene. In this vibrant tableau, our conviction will struggle like a silver fish in an unyielding ocean, Allowing us to understand that, since the creation of the world, the truth has been a wandering star, Inseparable from hidden destiny, on our inner sky, traversed by nameless ships, Ever gazing towards the pole of the wise Abstract, where those Lords of the Dawn wander, silent and rare. They have always been among us, like the wind carrying pollen in the depth of spring, An order without pomp, caressing weary foreheads and igniting the holy flame in hearts; Whispering in the language of eternal secrets, watching like guardians hidden in ancestral times, Destined to find our way back to the lost consciousness, through thicket of dreams and hopes. They, the few but growing like an old forest of green stars in the night of the soul, Open the gate to the kingdom where all is known, yet nothing is spoken. On that day, our hearts will sing symphonies of light, glowing through the morning dew, Reconciling the world with the divine, in an eternal embrace of the soul with those dreamt realms. Thus, the human race, on a clear white day, when all symbols will take word and shape, Will cross the threshold between worlds, with meaningful and dancing steps, Freeing themselves from the heavy velvets of the unfathomable in a moment of self-discovery, Rebirth from the ashes of time, understanding paved with the sparkling diamonds of knowledge. In that magic and melancholic moment, when the veil will fall and eyes will see, Every pixel of life will gain intensity and color, redefining our eternity, We, a certain small number of souls who wander through grasses misunderstood, Will be the counselors of the coming days, the keepers of the flame in the temple of relearning divinity.
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