When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
Darkness enveloped us again, and for the first time in years, I welcomed it.
Corcitura
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Darkness enveloped us again, and for the first time in years, I welcomed it.
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