The Ballad of the four great races - Indigoplatform

The Ballad of the Four Races,
is ontstaan na het lezen van het gechannelde boek ‘Geen geheimen en geen leugens meer- De beslissende fase in de evolutie van mens en Kosmos ‘ van Patricia Cori .
Het geeft ons een inkijk in het 'scheppingsverhaal' waar de 'homo sapiens ' werd geschapen, door een samenbrengen van 4 verschillende buitenaardse rassen, met de bedoeling een 'superras' te creëren.
De evolutieleer van Darwin staat dus niet langer.... op de eerste plaats...
Maar dat wist je uiteraard al langer dan vandaag...

The Ballad of the Four Great Races
(A tale of origins, division, and hope)

Once upon a time, so long ago,
A hundred thousand years or more,
Before the beasts could speak or know,
The stars did whisper, worlds did soar.
A plea was sent beyond the skies,
To find a home where life might rise.

Oh, hear the tale from distant lands,
Of four great races, born by fate’s own hands.
Together bound by cosmic threads,
Yet torn apart by fear and dreads.

From a planet dry, with deserts wide,
Where water scarce did rule the tide,
Came the Black, with fire in their veins,
Virile hearts and passion’s flames.
Sent to Africa’s thirsty sands,
To master life with fertile hands.
Their gift: a force both wild and deep,
Sexual power, secrets to keep.

The second came from worlds of heart,
Where ancestors and spirits part,
The Red ones walked with sacred grace,
Guardians of earth, and time, and place.
They heard the whispers of the trees,
And danced with nature’s harmonies.
On this earth, as Indian tribes,
They lived with honor, without bribes.

The third from realms where cold machines,
Choked the soul with endless schemes.
The Yellow ones, with minds so bright,
Mastered tools, but lost their light.
Sent to lands where tech would bloom,
Yet hearts grew distant, faced their doom.
They built great towers, wired and grand,
But forgot to hold a loving hand.

The last, from worlds where shadows reign,
Where sun was weak, and skies were drained.
The Aryans came, from northern snows,
Where long dark winters claim repose.
Proud and fierce, with ice-cold will,
They sought to conquer, to distill
A “super race” by blood and fire—
But burned the world with cruel desire.

Oh, hear the tale from distant lands,
Of four great races, born by fate’s own hands.
Together bound by cosmic threads,
Yet torn apart by fear and dreads.

Together meant to weave a song,
Of unity, forever strong.
But fear and hate began to rise,
And blinded all with cruel disguise.
The Black were shunned, their fire feared,
The Red forgotten, spirits smeared.
The Yellow raced but lost the heart,
The Aryans tore the world apart.

In wars and pain, the truths were lost,
A world divided, counting cost.
Not in strength, but love’s embrace,
Lies the future of the human race.

So now, the earth in flux does flow,
With strangers come and strangers go.
Refugees in quest of home,
Reminding us we’re not alone.

Oh, why these winds of change arise?
Why do the borders blur our skies?
Is it not chance, or cruel fate,
But Earth’s own call to recreate?
To find the path that leads us true—
To build as one, not split in two.

Oh, hear the tale from distant lands,
Of four great races, joined by hands.
Their wounds remain, their lessons clear,
The time has come to wake, to hear.

For all are one beneath the sun
A song unfinished, just begun.

Een langere songversie met een andere insteek op het gegeven van de 4 eerste rassen op planeet aarde op : https://rumble.com/v6wj614-the-ballad-of-the-four-starborn-tribes-indigoplatform.html

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