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Oh Rome, Rome, you abomination, false, holy-pious one. Look, all your Satan, haughty dreams are shattered. Oh Rome, Rome, look, your ten joint king crowns, are already resting on the temple head of your ten world-order clones.

With the axe already against the trunk, in three and a half years all the power of these ten very high trees will fall. And in total darkness, all Lucifer’s false light and hope perishes, in his dreams of power.