There is a message. A cloaked gem in the midst of the otherwise concise and beautiful contract, it is a cypher of survival, bequeathed to posterity for a time.
Tis not for the man alone, the unveiling, but for men, save the one hold malice in his heart. And its clever disguise knows the era of revealing, should it come so, and holds close its utility for them ‘til.
What then, and how, for it is so? I say, the ancient concealers set to reunite a nation of light, restore and maintain her to form, thru a machine of man known to only God and them.
Some, a few, today have seen, though they cannot speak it thru. As it is hidden in the text, so it buried from their consciousness, so tying their tongues. They know its truth by instinct, and it was given them by grace in their seeking.
The few must be joined by the many as ones, each inquiring by their will, and truth laid bare enough shall liberate them from the inevitable.