Δειτε το οπωσδηποτε
Remembrance of Things Past
I swarm deserted away, like glass...
Warm, and as fevers,
I am as flame.
I am death...
For I, I weave our blasphemies...
Wicthes painted me,
Like the mysteries created me...
Like where the poets breathe,
I were woven into blasphemies.
Remembrance of Things Past
I swarm deserted away, like glass...
Warm, and as fevers,
I am as flame.
I am death...
For I, I weave our blasphemies...
Wicthes painted me,
Like the mysteries created me...
Like where the poets breathe,
I were woven into blasphemies.
ΠΑΣΟΚ Σ'ΑΓΑΠΩ ΚΙ ΟΤΑΝ ΠΕΘΑΝΩ ΘΕΛΩ ΗΛΙΟ ΠΡΑΣΙΝΟ ΣΤΟΝ ΤΑΦΟ ΜΟΥ ΑΠΑΝΩ
Spoiler
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Those of you who think you know everything are annoying to those of us who do.