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Oceans of words to be fished, and formed. A wash of gold adorns. Twilight bids the sun farewell. Slipping away to realms afar. She answers to the tune. A painted echo is recalled. We go the wrong way. They laugh as you cry. Some are locked up forever. You find the sky is falling.
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Subscribe to my blog! Quand on est petite. QuanD On EsT PetitE,. On VoudraiS PouvoiR EtrE GrandE. PouR ComprendrE TouT Se Qui Se Di. Et QuanD On EsT GrandE,. On VoudraiS PouvoiR EtrE PetitE. PouR Ne Pas DevoiR ComprendrE.
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