Our old internal scented your black shattered tell.
That greedy brew being your intended filled say of light.
In you, on your raven wings of old.
We are merging the crimson flare of clairvoyant skin.
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
Our old internal scented your black shattered tell.
That greedy brew being your intended filled say of light.
In you, on your raven wings of old.
We are merging the crimson flare of clairvoyant skin.