prophecy was to become nooses forgot where dust. The narrowness of hours broke generations of tears that are rusting in their own pools. They piled the fragments of his loneliness and there looking for seeds to raise his voice. He looked out, saw the recreation of the flowers and put gates to the inventory of his life. He had received many blows it with cardboard blanking scattered light of day. Today we forget the silence and wanted to combine a new watch, I want to die so many times that he forgot to live. Today I wanted to talk.
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