⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖐𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  𝕴𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓, 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖞 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓, 𝖘𝖜𝖎𝖋𝖙,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀      𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖓𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖞, 𝖆 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀        𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀     𝕾𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖘,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀       𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖐𝖞,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀    𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖚𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖋
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀      𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖘𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖓, 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖜 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊’𝖘 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀       𝕴𝖓 𝕾𝖜𝖆𝖓 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀      𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓, 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖞,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀    𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖘
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀       𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖐𝖞.