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I lie awake, listening to the unearthen trees whisper their rose petalled lies prophesying the return of my hope. Whilst the wind's mournful kisses die gracefully in a futile attempt to form the epitome of happiness.
0
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
A weather of bliss
I lie awake, listening to the unearthen trees whisper their rose petalled lies prophesying the return of my hope. Whilst the wind's mournful kisses die gracefully in a futile attempt to form the epitome of happiness.
maha-salman
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
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