

CapThe breeze is gone and with it the memory of golden fields. All that remains is the scent of warm leather and wool. The brilliance of the gray dusk before blindness sets in. Silence more deafening than the chant of church bells and thunder. Never again run from nor hide from the eyes of the world. Half-formed thoughts escape lips like kerosene through a sieve and the tapestry is woven with licentious lies. The sun has gone and only the sky remembers though the earth yearns for its comforting embrace. Constant are the riddles of the tolling bells and the skys thunderous roar. TiCap
My Top Three
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I miss you every blink.
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"Is that a level three or level four?"
I's been watching you sleeps.
0u0
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I miss you every blink.
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~aRa
tu-buRy NikkyVity
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"Is that a level three or level four?"
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I have no signature.
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"Is that a level three or level four?"
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