

bliss.surrounded by lifeless households, the air is still. eyes to the stars,bliss.
to see what hands cannot reach, as she lays in the grass. a scene she tries to bury in her brain.
a love.
fearful is she,
for the end of night is coming.
the death of the moon for yet another day.
rage overthrows the feelings of joy,
and the love turns to turmoil and resentment. she must be patient. for night is many hours away.
--
conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
Moony and Padfoot! Fighting apparitions one ghost at a time. You confuse them with long sentences, and while they are befuddled I slap them like a girl. What do you say? I think we've a career in it.
--
Thank you
--
My Gallery
--
I can't help if many of the non-beleivers were flammable.
--
conformity is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
Moony and Padfoot! Fighting apparitions one ghost at a time. You confuse them with long sentences, and while they are befuddled I slap them like a girl. What do you say? I think we've a career in it.
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