a rose for the dead
oh - my dearest; the sweet music in the air - albeit, daresay I, the lullaby of an everso dark sleep. my precious, likest thou what emergeth yon the distant? the throbbing and breathing of life's machinery! wanion its oh so damndest soul! with the devil-instrument it we shall reap, after the banquet
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Me siento Hambriento.
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