Lover made of stone, our thoughts were divine.
We were shadows of autumn morning,
fallen from the graves.
Alas, there won’t be a summer,
only a cold spring of endless ghosts.
We were once...
Lover made of stone, our thoughts were divine.
We were shadows of autumn morning,
fallen from the graves.
Alas, there won’t be a summer,
only a cold spring of endless ghosts.
Published 3 months ago
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