every twilight would be extinguished, its light a little burned side of the room is empty soul. memories of the reign in the mind of the poet. every dance step spark animates quiet conscience. sometimes beautiful, sometimes troubled, sometimes disappearing, sometimes even lifeless. sound of terrible divine gift, which will never be lasting until the end of time. awake for a while now and gersangnya dam sun, desolate soul, body heat in the scarred soul hurts ... but it will not be eternal.
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