Enamored by words.
Soaring our whims to the strangling crest. Soaring our whims to the strangling crest.
There was a pitch black odour, Fuming on a night so pure that it could be in the truest form of ... There was a pitch black odour, Fuming on a night so pure that it could be in...
"Years later, Wandering on silent roads, You found nothingness. Time, no longer falsely accused." "Years later, Wandering on silent roads, You found nothingness. Time, no longer ...