The flowers, so rankly growing, are pale and like the dead, yet one there is amongst them, that glows a dusky red. It did not gain its colour, from sunlight's warming flood, it took it from the cold earth, that's soaked in dead men's blood. F. Hebbel
Music is the building bricks of her. Music is all around her. She hears things others couldn't. She thinks differently from others. She aspires to make a change. She strives for every attempts. She is making history. And is making every inch of her life filled with nostalgic moments. She is on her way to the peak of her life.
1 comments:
lol...wad is that..u put sumthing into the egg shell rite...the stuff to make jelly wan
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