from thy chest difficult ... the hope of the paraphernalia of that that killed my buddy hubby. kept at bay from a deeply wounded heart of thine,
The love that stole a piece in death ... only those who know the loss of a soulmate knows what that tis like. The love than shines on sparkling but a void in the catalytic rift of time in cold archaic treatment when one is so lost in the recess of good common sense of those entering a dangerous environment in the making ...
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