it's just a matter of time that their heads will hang and beautiful red color stares to the ground untill they fall down however i have enjoyed the power of a flower your beauty of time
Time is a clock, a face no-one forgets, a stopwatch on a stiff wrist beneath crisp white cotton, a feral black cat in the woods of adulthood that sneaks up on you in your prime,
I am not one to treat a beast decent but I've fed that demon as of recent this creature eats my peaceful pieces with hate increased, my whole decreases