Upon Beauty Rests. For The Days We Fear The Air We Breathe. The Perfect Things In Poetry. Amikor szépség az utastérben. The Days félünk a levegő, amit belélegzünk. A tökéletes dolgok Költészet.
...shine so beautifully. It's a mirror image of the stars in the sky. Each are corresponding to one on the other side. We aren't the perfect things in poetry
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