Anshe
When the dull pain again, captivate,
not enough air to breath,
you collect power as bad
there never was the empty offense.
Slumber pride, cools anger
not to the heavens, and to the mirror behind the curtain,
and candy in a tasty wrapper,
sweeter treats Queens...
Filling, the sweetness... eh It just her?
Its owner is unlikely not interested...
They only used coffee was not too sweet,
all of them — more used of sugar at the bottom...
... And we ingest, iscriviti mouth
the price of morality in the air amid the dust,
flushing grievances in the color of white lilies
which dilutes the color of the marshes...