In the quiet rooms of the unseen,
Where shadows dance with ancient secrets,
A choreography of reality is woven mysteriously,
Created by unseen hands, the puppeteers of the world,
Threads of truth and illusion, like stars in the night sky.
There, in a hidden sanctuary in Washington,
Unknown shadows draw the contours of existence,
Not just events, but their mystical essence,
Shaping the...
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