As it's uncertain like one's destiny, but can it be as it's been in time as now as constant as time's demise for where we rise is where we fall into the other connected all... silence is the life of a life who's only life was a sick disguise in the skies the heart can fly or when the sheeps has left your sleep to jump the fence of no amends. PostForums: Index > User Poetry > For inside I wonder...
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