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ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡
𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡
ℑ𝔱 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰, 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔰, 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔠𝔢
𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶, 𝔦𝔱 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫
𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩
𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔱𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔶𝔢𝔡, 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔦𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰
ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔶𝔢𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 🦢🌙🩸