In the meantime in the Áullos kósmos or Ultramundi, Wonthelimar after hearing the speeches and paragraphs of the speakers saw from paradise how Calypso Lepidoptera appeared, approaching in great magnitudes on the dry land on the banks of the blue and golden stones of Skalá. In torrents of rushing from the water-sky with wind-water, by geomorphological hydraulics of the collapse of the irresistible capacity to harass each other in the ears of Seleuco's dialogues, after they piled up in the sneaking curds of him on the island of his speech. Right there it settled from the koelum or sky of the Lepidoptera from the Orofí or ceiling, on the natural arches of aeolian erosion and its devastating plumage, appearing in the subaerial splendor of Chauvet and its gloomy darkness, changing the morphology of the bank of Skalá turned into enchanted turquoise light also with Calypso nuances. From here Wonthelimar obscures the circumflex arc or circumflexes, which pierced and eroded the surface, piling up the ex-generals of Alexander the Great, to skewer them on the stump that was languidly seen supporting them, after the tides of Lepidoptera that avalanche in destined per capita towards the destined underworld of Wonthelimar.

Wonthelimar was separated from everyone by the moat that was separated from the gods of the surface, but now where the supporters of Seleucus were predestined by imbibing themselves in the bilocated kingdom of Chauvet and its darkness, where they were put into agreements of suitability and clarity of words discursive for the eagerness to persuade his major general. But they all fell into the middle of a dark Ultraworld, judging themselves to be dying in stockpiles of biosystems where no one helped them and gave them some indication or diagnosis of being separated from the canopy that drained them from spectral affairs, speaking as vivid visions of benefits and sovereignties that escaped from themselves without contemplation or quietism of the human race, which procreates xenophobia to kings without throne or nation. Under the Attic, calendar were the months here were only eighth, Anthesterion, received them with the name directly of the main festival celebrated in this month, Anthesteria. In goods of name contests in the semester of Pyanepsia, Thargelia, and Skira where they were relatively significant, in some of the greatest celebrations in the life of a Polis, which is not recognized in the name of the month. Some sparkled in the sound of the Great Dionysia celebrated in Elaphebolion (ninth month), and the Panathenaia in which they are only indirectly recognized in Hekatombaion (month one), named after the hecatomb, of the sacrifice of "one hundred oxen" celebrated at night. End of the Panathenaia. This is where the suspicious fondness of both families of Seleucus and Alexander the Great differed in the accent that marks the written line of the infra Polis, where the leaders of Haides or Hades are lost, for the purposes of Aïdes, as not indivisible, but with the presence of Wonthelimar, who is invisible but epically static on his balustrade in all the rings that chorally wore them for each patronage of the diádocos generals, even so he had betrayed the Hellenic legacy, by a Hellenic-Orthodox one in the disappearance of Alexander the Great in Babylon without knowing that it had been rescued by Wonthelimar, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes ibix, or Aros de íbiz, as nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, quantum nano-ring that augured to sensitize the dermis of its carpal phalanges, from the eighth, Anthesterion to Elaphebolion (ninth month), minus the one hundred and twenty days of gestation in a month of the attic of imníbiz, that it was of wise advice to receive him in the new engend rivers of Wonthelimar in the depths and bundles of marrow with gestation forms of an Ibex goat, with their embedded bases of stalagmites, filing the meaning of each life that was lodged in the depths of the caves and its opacity. The Eygues of Valdaine was the Acheron, but with half the deceased who sat in rows and unleashed their laurels that possessed poor aids tormented by mandrake root hands.

The underworld was a swamp that covered the heels of the diádocos in the immense blackness of the cavern that wounded them one and the other with its Kopis, by more than a hundred blows and slashes that covered them with mud and moans in their buried half bodies. That they had been intruded from linear entrances to the underworld of Wonthelimar. In the thick musts of the quagmire where objects with ornaments of fear and cavalier materiality lay, such mangrove deserts satiated with gloomy fibromyalgia and amnesia, refiguring in the wandering bones, that sinned in lights and destinies that were adopted in the sub-world with incorporeal needs., more than the exhaustion that tore the skeletal muscle of each one behind the meager compromise openings, in the strong ligaments of the host Wonthelimar that took them at forced steps towards paradises where there will never be consciousness from a Theseus typology, but from a sub taxonomy - Verthian mythological, for purposes and among others that unleash it by propelling self-infernos that are not those born by a Macedonian force or Satrap into puny kings turned into a servile, mute and decayed.

It is necessary, that solitude of all the entrances from the abyss into which they fell, was titanic and of ultraphobic acquiescent inspiration, and in the acid gestures of search of Persephone or Aerse that in random gestures fled from their persecutors, like females who ended fleeing from themselves falling into the back room where the end of souls is never exceeded or Psyché re emigrating from the punishments of a satire or a static that resulted in a ghostly wandering, or in tendentious spinners that tribulated in belated bundles of repentance. From primitive times, subjugations have been longed for in kings who would never think of leaving their cracks and washing their hands behind the backs of others who stood by, leaving the courage to lose themselves in the perversity of a body deposited in the Tartars, having to give them their prehistoric debts and meadows of carpeted debts and caged rooms.

The generals commanded by Seleucus walked barefoot along with the stump that wounded them in seams for their plantar areas, and in extreme distress, they did not dare to ask mercy from the cave host who transported them through the deep pit of perpetuity, where the frigid bullet of angina of Wothelimar, filled them with memories that protected their survival. In unworthy caprice and watery *****,… it ran frivolously down their legs, even after each impulse to recover the flashes of estimating being scared of oneself, after finding dead fruits subsisted halfway, feeling voices from the origin of the abyss that I quoted them.

Etréstles says: "Mashiach allow me to enter this grave, I do not know if I should go to rescue them, because I know what will happen..., I only ask that if I enter with courage, help me to find the same light of the exit, with the same memory of not to waste arrests, and not to lose myself in my entrustment by those who I know will not return”

Behind some Sabine poplars, it is seen how the elytra of the Lepidoptera were opened for those who crossed from the darkness without the appearance of their fruitful eyes that tickled praises of surrender, and not of ibid in the ibid that surrounded them, as if they were violated that heal at the moment when their faces departed from the miracle of privacy, and from the solitude decreed of non-existent company, companionship calming any dogmatic symptoms and hypoxia that the glimpse of the Eygues and the Acheron left them, further behind in which Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth, Reader and Petrobus to bring Etréstles back.

Saint John the Apostle says: “Vernarth go for your brother,… he wants to protect the souls of Seleucus and his comrades, go soon because there is little left to fill them with darkness which will even besiege in their reasoning and anti homelands that will not be from the din of the campanile, out of tune with joy that runs on the graces of the gift that frees you from the worst virus by not being anti-viral… ”.

Vernarth replies: “Etréstles is the slogan of Erebus, perhaps of Bumodos…, I have to stop him for his profession, since the comrades of Seleuco will not return, the effigies of Wonthelimar have made them of his children in Ultramundi, and what is Solstice of the underworld, it is only a small Sun that fits in the buttonhole of the orthogonal slot that confines it”.

At that time Raeder paraded where he before they reached the omega of the gully pit, running swiftly over the eyelets of Wonthelimar, leaving both completely naked, to tear them away from the contrived spell and bring Etrestles back all the way together and running., but both stripped of lightness and acceleration escaped from the centripetal bodies. After the tortured walls of the pit, they no longer supported themselves in their Skotos or Erebo of Wothelimar in such a primordial deity of this theogonic and fantastic event in the bilocated cavern of Chauvet in Skalá. Here all the densities and units of physical genres, from above and below surrounded them in the thick sulfur atmosphere, Ananké in such a goddess of inevitability ran after all who tried to reverse the situation of the diádocos, for the purpose of consenting their paragraphs Hellenics and to save their lives, but the mother of the Moiras went behind Etréstles and Vernarth along with Rader and Petrobus who were basking in the glow of Persephone that imbued them as they stagnated drinking mead with the Canephores who followed him. From this cryptic moment or from the bombastic insignia of Crete, Kanti's trotting from his Cretan figure was felt united with the Lepidoptera Calypso, redeeming Demeter from her crying on the edge of some Bern olive trees, emptier now that the last gradients of the agonic and venous voices in the hilarious of some diádocos that were completely absorbed by the benevolent illusion of Wonthelimar, snowy in the harrowing tenuity of his gestures and of the great Iberian that took them towards the heights of the hillocks and towards the Ultramundi that It turned them into proles of the mountainous areas, and into super aquatic monsters with thousands of loose eyes in the arches of the generals bleating, which transposed ****** subjugations of primal deities, and philastics of phantasmagorical genres of Hellas that is plucked from the peritoneum of their stomachs, and that guttural eradicated them from the blue adrenaline of Apollo.

This odyssey dispelled the orthogonal lines of the poetic affliction of those who could see the sunset and the Spyché ***** that antagonized Ananké's numinous efforts to extubate them, and perhaps exile them to the Theban plains to graze Achaeans of the first degree alongside Shamash. Lamenting of young afternoons and of the abysmal with beautiful hair of the generous of effects, swampy and of feverish Hadesian or Hade's rounds that crippled their districts, they emanated from some Marie Curie junk and vapors radiating this Parapsychological Quantum to them from their own holy final body., for a virtuous and rout of the Ultramundis of Wonthelimar.

Here he comes
The elliptical young guy

Shaky
Anchored in his
Interrogation wood

An interjection hanging chest
Pieces of the night between backquotes

Certainly
He lived glory days adverbial
Between clouds of exclamation

Today, he lies circumflex in itself
Barefoot. With faltering feet
About oval ellipsis.

Earth's satellite-- bloated and hung.
                  And there you were out of sight.
                  An accidental prize tucked in the crevice of tomorrow.
                  A lethal burrow abundant with barbed avowals.
In a sick dugout flourishing with axiom; an infestation.
You were;
                 The space tucked in a dream.
                 The conductor.
                 The lout existing in the basement.
                 The brute in love with disdain.
Plucking circumflex arteries- clumsy, unskilled.
Your mouth is a watering can.
Vena cava, then the right atrium.
Body parts for guitar strings.
I unravel and you're amused.
The exercise of reason, the functioning of the intellect.
Silence always stings.
                                     It feasts on the bone marrow.
                                     In the cracks of the asphalt,
                                     There you are again.
                                     Like a thief.
The Viper.
The hurricane smile I believed in.
Use me up and hang me out to dry with all the other bankrupt *****.
I'll still be dormant in the eye of your assault.

Vernarth says: “We will be able to find in this path of Light that is my life, what is the wood that stretches and upsets the material surfaces in the gifts of God, with the prevailing low water of the minimal plastering of rainfall, but if in the flow of astonishment that will leave us all in the breath of knowing how to be and understand, which is my hand directed by Vitruvius, and that his interval measures do not cease to outline everything that can or could generate cracks that cross the rules of Survival, where everyone who is a survivor of the Arbela Site, will be identified as an unfolded constituent of all solid material, providing the minimum percentage that will make up the majesty of a revived heart. Vitruvius remains with me ..., and his hands sustain greater fantasies that reside in the divine architecture that will be the origin of everything that existed and will exist. The long wattles will extend in the new layer that resides between the Kidron Valley to Gethsemane, and from Nazareth to Eilat, and that those who walk around will winnow footsteps that will later lead them to Bethany, and that Alexander the Great ... my General! Will be protected by the holy mantle of Mashiach, after we are both released from this mega Purgation. That the magnitude of the planks and the broad-headed nails will be hammered by the antlers of the Uilef, and that the utopias will make me see from above and it will be like being on the shoulders of Brisehal or the Colosso of Apsila so that wattles be always and permanently sprinkled by my prose of advent and passion of my Redeemer. I am prepared with the edge of my Xiphos ..., every day I cut a piece of my arm! As I heal again, I fissure the meats that closed, letting the softness of my skin be the skin that restores the nail that will slice the second rows of concession arteries, so that they are assimilated to the third that could reach the same way as those received by the Mashiach. The length of the miracle is imperishable and the nails with a small head will make the break where they will not be finally nailed, interweaving the preparation vines that will cover my arm and that of Alexander the Great, more distant from the third arteries that still bleed, so that they are prepared in the fourth row of the syntagma group in the arteries that will be those that hold posterity carrying everything with my sectioned dexterity, but always holding onto the Xiphos behind the brilliant mortar of Arena. Nothing exists, everything only existed for the first entelechy of Zerubbabel when rebuilding, and our Redeemer uttered that everything will be turned into pieces of stones with bones of long wattles that would extend to the layers of clay being his tomb, that yes passing through the mortar that will make all mankind redo the sawdust of the whole earth towards the devastated earth. In this way, the four rows of arteries will lie in the preparation rows with my right arm burning when I first touched the Empyrean taking me with it from 775 BC. C. until the time of the first century of the Era of Our Lord ”.

Cosmic thought crossed the four brains of its component of unfolded time, after being attracted by the foolishness of the thoughts that traveled without generational limits of Tikun, in such a way that the thoughts that were fixed on the orthogonal of infinity were detached from time imperceptible with the summation of the loss of the unknowable space of the abstruse of the Vav Hei Vav, creating the total dissociation of the past from the peristyle of time, leaving the future numbed in the antiquity of the Hellenic past, but reviving it in the passing of the transgression mean, between the antitragus of the head of the four assistants of the Vav Hei Vav, to transfer them through the shell of each one in their inner ears when sizing what will pass silently through their cognitions and in their Over Being, or Quantum Being that will take them along paths from the 700 years old to the first century in the constitution of Hera in Olympia, and rather towards the recalcitrant subjection of the stones that made it up to be subject to the nurse nomenclature of the understanding of the cosmic thought of Vernarth, who had slender few sponsored in all the naturalities that tried their mimicry, doing nothing else what has not been noticed far from it, from where the natural deformation of cosmic thought will bend as it is transcribed in all the textual evolution of the four united minds of Vernarth, Alexander the Great, Saint John the Apostle and King David. The luminescence would be attracted by all the rivers in the Vernarth Opera with the Bumodos, Eygues, Lethe, Euphrates and Nile, Acheron (the river of sorrow), Cocytus (laments), Phlegethon (fire), Lethe (oblivion), and Styx. The Bumodos would be the stigma of the pain of the Thymus of Vernarth that would be even more active and sensitive than his heart, and the Eygues that would be his faithful companion that would help him to promote the pains of lost loves with Wonthelimar, when the haze and storm left him alone in the sugary sand with labyrinths and the contact of the last frictions of his loved ones, leaving only messes in a Siddartha that would tend to be tempted by humanity, making us believe that nothing is more powerful than the propensity of evil to have in the constitution transgenerational family, to remain anchored in Ha-Shatán's slander, harassing immanent relics of the worship of man who settled on the banks of rivers in the expectation of quenching their thirst for wisdom or for the Vav Hei Vav, as a portal of entry of the trip around the world that unites us with our encore adventures, that are always united to the past of the upper ***** and that does not leave us any second of the present in his waves of contemplation as a Hoplite man in the fantasy of his dreams, managing to make the rivers of oblivion or Lette propitiate the future that will not make him forget what in the past was an underground part of the currents of a watery thought, what is The verb will be and should be the subjugation of those around him who harasses himself.

In this way, the words ran in the sorry speed of the harassment of the immobile Ha-Shatán but fiercely restrained by what surrounded the verb as in the meadows of Ein Kerem that was surrounded by the contours that made her not fatigue in the gaze of the heaven, when everything that was close was in fullness with the organic nature that contained it, and everything that was summarized from the rhythm of the Hexagonal Chapel of the Shepherds in its rhythm, like a swarm between winds that carried pollinations in the first words that they contained themselves from the latter to later reconnect themselves by means of the buckles carried by the offspring of the lambs and the primordial respiration of the Cosmos, which they said above all as a verb that sprouted in the seeds themselves that were escaping from their reproductive capacity. Vernarth already knew that he had little time left to be near his Hoplites and that the ocean of arrows that would fall on his destiny would be from bittersweet Theosophy that would fall on the back of the herd, like Manna that would emancipate itself in tons of languages that can define the Thought that may pre-exist. Perhaps thinking, but anchored in the turn that contains him, between words that would no longer be writing or any wisdom that reduces him, rather the gesture of the Peri Kosmous that would transmit something to us through those who do not speak or indicate ..., rather of the same abstraction of all the Pelicans that would advance by the vital energies that wear away the concepts that sway between the waves by the Aegean seas, and of the silence that of this same thing already begins to lose the horizon in the gaze of your observer. Nothing was friction that generated words that could be the sustenance of an Era that was spent for more than seven hundred years in the hands of the oppressors who would waste it in seven seconds, leaving everything in the hierarchy of a reality as the Plan of the Spare Universe. called Duoverso, which was precisely the simple river that joins both Universes lying between themselves as the appearance of the river Acheron or permanent misfortune, imagining ourselves in every bad good fit to balance our thoughts where the first will be offshoots of the Vernarth principle, until four o'clock. arteries that prosper to reach an occult knowledge, where every being that walks twice the same way is not the reality of the times in which every day the footsteps of the Mashiach are seen from Bethany to Ophel or from Ophel to Bethany, like an anthroposophic hill and foundations that will make the city of David seven hundred meters high, carrying this peristyle in the gallery of time, going through the majestic iteration of the journey of the imperceptible quantum being seven times in a row with the seven long paths of the rebound between Bethany and Ophel, on the very promontory of Saturn reviving them in the narrow promontories that make you see that thought is more than a sacred place to remember what is dear, which is precisely what is to be appreciated and observed when some steps escape and are not of the forged walk of the Mashiach from Kidron to the Tyropoeon; towards the escarpment that would put the relays of the new sheep that will also graze on Patmos, and that despite the turns of antiquity will be the strip between the ancient era and the Middle Ages, as precepts of the sacred mountains that will grow in the eschatological of the advent of Thuellai when Profitis Ilias was the source of synergy in the figure that will unite them among the evil that grows Vg The Golgotha and the sacrifice *** Bei Himnom, proceeding with Zion of the Earth and David, as a precept of the plains of forgiveness in the Moriah from where Abraham, already provided with his “Hey”, mediated and possessed the benevolence of the Maker to bring to life to his Son Isaac, to shelter him in the rubble in everything that was not of his patriarch's fruit, and then it could be reissued in the nobility of an epigram that would be the return to Ophel after having crossed the circumflex of the word used in this paragraph, to continue through the mountains that will be the emphasis of Patmos, constituting the square for its defense and blocking all the walls of history that will be carriers of all the threat of installed evil, making them the systemic forces reluctant and doomed on the southern ***** of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem between Tyropoeon to the west and the Kidron Valley to the east dominating the ill-gestated shadow of Ha-Shatan.

I leave no trace in people’s hearts

Instead, I gently circumflex
             and disappear completely  

I leave no trace in anything

No craft was ever held so tight
that it could let offspring

I leave no trace

As if a breeze has blown
no stronger than grass moved