Phoenix envy - there was there 1986
To a summit of our horizon, given nothing to our destination, if nothing serves to the stars, the sun's binding the hemisphere sides of the universe and the mourning everyday is taken, there is a third book aspeaking of our words. Should our words speak of nothing else, let it be on the skull given likiness to God and the apparence of humanity. For God is a figurative literation of a star, tense, tensing of the dialect bequeathed yet it isn't a migration of the omnient beside a separating barder (dictionary) of those who speak. Even if it's only one, one is a omen for the scenarios that came, the scenarios are persisting yet are the suggested chorography of the future and the scenarios to come for the Haven is the past, present,and future. Let our words be spoken in a dance, the omen is upon our sovereignty: it builds such as a communion of a blaze flaming light suggesting transference into a city. the dance, the star is brightening upon a God. Yet belittle upon thy conception the omen
There shall be no action feeding that that hasn't been created, it is with the nigh that actions are bequeathed. Give into a omen of the last because it is the first: within a dance, if first sight of the beginning there is nothing, so at least salvation shall last. For the destination before shall never be, forth now has risen: the nigh is full burning with crystalais. The first dance is enveloping, the nigh is the tempness for the first dance.
To see up on a migration, there's a dance upon a omen. To conceive a Appleton of a dance burning throughout the proposed cosmos, trembling the foretold into a blaze and if the horizon bequeathed nothing else, a singularity beseeches within a flame burning itself until creation advances. Burning on a standed eterium flaring thou cognition to migration, with the presence of God or any God adapt thy have been created. For such burn, there is a will neither vast in the sight not a a pasture so sol sight upon the beauty enlightening my visualization, it is a turn to the Northwest blazing unbeknownst to me a candle, to propheize things to be created. Latter a illumination
Foretold or forebolden a need
Lady death (tentative name)
The momentius nowhere, it begs on a stretching of illumination: the glimpsing apliture glimmering spontaneously upon the willow of many, the dreams spare a moment of limitless ratio without guessing adversary to the assailance further ascending advileration between the cleansing of purity. Accelerence parties farther, the arch of creation is a mere infinite upon the nigh of the abyss: to create, my voice is farther without a vessel.
Beyond the boundaries of dreams, the mechanism exists: Omega is wearing it. A male is pacing within the distinction of imagination, there was always myths: between the light and the darkness, a Phoenix exist. The burden feathers of a dream is upon the costume of Omega, she has worn many masks in life. Once in life, her original costume was a military uniform...was servitude to all things, above all else. There wasn't a protagonist within her, it is why she was feared.
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