“The brightness of the Zsablas came from the night sky, then began to fade at the end of the onslaught of winter first, her skewer has discovered her by comparing her current situation with what she had before when her light began to dim. They all look at her and attack with all her strength seeing the shine of the dazzling sword as great Heroy Ukrayiny. The bizarre were taken with visible return light and with arms attached to each other already fallen with their fingers on the hammer. The images reveal changes that occur in its star when seeing the breaking of its vain flood of flash, both in brilliance and in an apparent way to grumble from the peaceful pair of providences on the legs of the cavalry advancing without pair, nor stopping of escalation that occurred after the Bucha massacre. Four hundred corpses have appeared at the Kramatorsk station, such Soviet missiles killed more than fifty citizens of Volodymyr, such Those 48 words shocked the world”
Ellipsis Kramatorsk, April 13, 2022, day 48 of the invasion. Volodímir speaks: "Children, your mother will take care of you at the time of the great Mikaiyáh to bring you the divine grace of accompanying you with the Abba Pealim, who will embrace you like a calf in her lap, tearing himself apart from the loving mystery for your lives for when they all fall embraced"
Olena says: “My beloved sir! I know that at this time there will be the same oratory that we can be worth for your ineffable courage, for the court, and cultivate passion with the Polish Zsablas. Here you can feel your thundering through the mountains and valleys where we used to notice the unknown world, eating delicious Vergun and Babka in their warm houses. I will never change my verdict having met you at the Besarabsky festival, you approached and made the united noise of my outfit with the white coming of dawn and all week when it brushed against its worn floor. From now on, renowned as my alba skirt clothes, offer your smiling eyes with tunics and cloaks that dazzle those who celebrated electing me as princess of the harvest. Nothing else would make me be just your look if it weren't for the Albacete of my house with the parents. My hairstyle was adorned with rodents eating our bodies and outstanding ruby spikes of celestial falcons with Albi-yellow flags dazzling your company, settling in the front crown..., always your Olena at the highest altar next to Mikaiyáh.”
Volodímir modulates: “My children, life will continue to be good, I have you in my prayers where no compensation will change drug compounds for the ingenious desire to have you close to me as hussars and their Zsablas. I have been reborn, I continue to feel my flesh and body on fire for you. I know that in Mariupol I will pacify attire, ****** attachments will not stop moving my legs to offer your help. But I will not get tired of moving against the sun and against the wind, of everything that I violated one day by seeing them between their open eyes hoping to help them. I will be with you, until the end, even if plundered forces profane illustrious missions beyond all life and bad outcome. In the silence of your calm words, the next day I will continue to exist with meager and magical words to the beat of your seasoning.”
Parable Bogdan Khmelnitskyi: “perceptibly saw how the sky of Kyiv was crossed by heavy metalloids of bronze, tin, and acrobalistics; for the cavalry and six warriors who used to ride on the roof of the Záratos appeared, belling with sounds in their acroteries. In these episodes, twelve swords were multiplied in advance by thousands before the palace began to be built after its ruins. They were dimensions of relevant victorious cavalry and virtual foundation lines to rescue the Heroy of Mariupol. Acrostics will pass through the steeds of Thessaly, riding on the palfrey of the Polish Winged Hussars, charging twelve wings of cuirassiers with twelve horsemen in adjoining halos of heavy cavalry at Katyn, lying abducted by a parapsychological and circum-regressive ellipsis of the 1939 event in Poland. Each rider was strung in blood with golden wing feathers from a Raptor game bird. Each of the wings carried the curved Szabla saber, to tacitly cover up oppressors and intruding musketeers from the hearth of the armory of the hypothetical or unknown enemy, but an outsider assaulting the flanks of the rooftops in the Mariyinsky Palace…, virtual of Kyiv. , using Kopias or pikes that concocted impetus as deadly resistance of the lineage betrayed in Hellenic, London, and Berlin museums. The roof pointed to the southwest where the light of Orion was reflected by the aerial forms of the Orfeón de Azov, riding over the high seas with votive offerings or offerings of Cyclamen and Red Poppies sifted to Silbones and Spoonbills birds that flew majestically in the nomadic rhythm of a Rhapsodas, coffering with epic elegies of Mariyinsky, and of those revived venerable triumphs that stretched out from the banner of glory and bed of the epiphany of Ukraine with the brave victors.
Rhapsode proclaims thus: “In Katyn, Polish Wings and Golden Woods with Red Poppies, adorned Bellis Perennis in twelve thousand rags of our steppes harassing their moan in blood offensives, framed in great chapters and threshold lintels in their mounted war. There were twelve thousand red poppies burning from the executory pilaster near Smolensk.” How much must he get fed up with the Polish cavalry of the 17th century, when he glimpses barbarous sounds in the temple that approached them to the altar of the Virtual Palace, showing off an acquiescent ceremonial and lifeless aristocracies, with living needy and vanquished mortals who posed in the rear of twelve thousand officers slain in the Katyn Forest assisting nine thousand of the slain in Mariupol, like gallant gentiles and medieval men of the contemporary untimely invasive. Here in this place, the winged horsemen with puffs went by their destiny to be sacrificed in steel quilts that galloped on their heads protected by brotherhoods and Hussars who protected them with Tiger and Lion breastplates with their retracted claws. Bogdan Khmelnitskyi watched in the virtuous image of him as winged medieval specimens protected the frontispiece of the palace in bullets of super-existence, fear, and historical trance. Here on this ground each one of the officers was aided by each 17th-century Polish cuirassier with ferocious wings, they were making their dying honor and glory with those similar, twice right there inequality and interwoven misty discrepant blood executing with apocryphal witnesses that covered them with sinister appearance, overflowing evasion and truce of bodies stained in mourning with disconsolate blankets carrying scattered red poppies adjoining a naive defenseless forest. About exalted memorandums, secrets, and epithets they felt in the tears of Adrastea next to Mikaiyáh.
Eagles of Kyiv will go to act of the spell of Didraskein, where no Slavic invaders and lethal punishments will be spared. The nymphs procreated their kind, the Slavs would drown in the cries of cuirassiers like Didraskein, before sobbing in platitudes of foliage and rotten hopes of those who hit them from behind, for a little water wasted such as heroes of Katyn. Here neither Cronus nor Mother Rhea heard them, only Adrastea avoided the cries of men-children and of those who atoned for her back, unburdening them from the foliage of the Didraskein with tears of lumpy mercury. Volodymyr's steeds rise carrying the curved Zsabla, before each one is shot in their heads as twelve thousand Winged Riders caught in each Zsabla plus nine thousand immolated from Mariupol, sacrificing them before they were killed from the waist of their head lost in loved ones, not being expired by ammunition, rather by sabers of honor and glory of their own winged protectors that would lead them by sharp weapons towards the holocaust surrounded by red poppies. “The red fog of the forest carried the souls of the Hussars by passing them through the sabers of their compatriots before they were immolated by Soviets, in this way apostolates and souls would be catechized by Zsablas in dyed airs of Red Poppies converted into the breathed air of the heroes of the Katyn Forest and Mariupol, seeing themselves redeemed by the 17th Century Golden-Winged Riders of Poland and Adrastea”
Bogdan with the immensity of voices and epithets heard Adrastea, she differed from volatile metal sabers, and explosives present when they went out in the crooked armor of Polish and Ukrainian beings, in a rear that Volodymir finally settled with the weave of the immaculate suspended habit of twelve thousand Red Poppies crossed by their forehead before being shot in the cortex, and occipital lobe forging with transvestite golden sabers, and cenobites that received them in the arms of the sublime stench of the effluvium of blood and hosts of nine thousand from Mariupol, never left and desisted from the bubbling figure of the acroteria near Mariyinski, idem to the Katyn Forest itself, surrounded in a string of the Rosary that was dazzled with Saint Sophia adopting them.
Fourteen vibrations of enthronement polarized from Volodímir instantly to his brother Bógdan, making filial gradation in the possible conception of cult and death who is suspended from one to the other under a damning accent of past lives. It is typical of the facsimile of his own genetic shadow, perhaps of Sem-Asur, who finally come together as blood relatives of the same Orbis Alius trunk. Rejecting not accessing Asur (as a healthy creative mind of Genesis) as an energy that could be restructured in any homologous of the world of Asur, as the son of Shem of Genesis..., as compared and inter-generational real mythology, pronouncing and enlivening in metaphors of the enchantment of what occurs in gender similarity or Mental field. The compensation and intemperance of living matter refer to the simultaneous undivided of each civilization as a phenomenon devoid of hearing and inclement winter periods. Here the outbreak lies cloistered in Menatira, daughter of Cránae, Queen of Eleusis Pro-Ukrania; such as a fluff of respite convulsing in both steppes of silence and hundreds of years B.C. prophesying to send aid to the victors of Volodymyr, Olena, Bógdan and the heroes of Mariupol with the Zsablas of Mikaiyah.
Bogdan´s Zsablas
