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ZEPHYR :: 1999 SECRET OBJECT

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I shall hold high a bowl of gems of unseen radiance
Enveloping spirit and will in seraphic rapture
O deformity, hear the weeping prayers
Arise from rot, be my child! Be my promise!

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I shall hold high a bowl of gems of unseen radiance
Enveloping spirit and will in seraphic rapture
O deformity, hear the weeping prayers
Arise from rot, be my child! Be my promise!

View more info

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𝔄𝔫 𝔢𝔵𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢, 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔢, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱
𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰, 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔩𝔩
𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶: 𝔫𝔬𝔫-𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣
𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩
𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔟𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱
𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔟𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔪 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢! 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔲𝔭𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢
𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔭, 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔫
𝔞 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔫, 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱
𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔦𝔫!

𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔵𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢
𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶.

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡, 𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢
𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔡𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔨𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤
𝔞 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔰𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔵𝔞𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯
𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔵𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯, 𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔱; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔩
𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔤𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔞𝔰𝔭 𝔢𝔵𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢
𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔞, 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔷𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔏𝔬𝔤𝔬𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔵𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔯𝔲𝔦𝔫𝔰; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞
𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢, 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢
𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩: 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢 𝔞𝔠 𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯!

𝔏𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔢 𝔩𝔞 𝔳é𝔯𝔦𝔱é 𝔞 𝔯é𝔭𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔲 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔤𝔦𝔣𝔩𝔢 à 𝔩𝔞 𝔧𝔬𝔲𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔲𝔢 𝔡𝔢 𝔩𝔞 𝔭𝔦é𝔱é.

𝔊𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯, 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔲𝔰, 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔲𝔰...

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