nighttime phantoms of birds swoop low through the breeze, greeting bats with sweet melodies and mingling in the trees. not only do their songs tingle the ears of few, but they are gone with the moon and the mid-morning dew.
misty nights and mornings are so perfect. ever since i started working the morning shift that starts at 6am, i can really appreciate the sunrise
but him. The one, sealed in whose lips my answers lies with serenity filled cohl lined eyes discerned by the devout sign crowned with white araqchin Loyalty his demeanor Words so splendidly clear clouds vanish my mind's under.