A Well-Worn Story.
For each gaze that ensnares and every utterance that constrains; teetering on the edge of annihilation, I, a son, prostrate myself over the abyss of melancholic recollections that strive to engulf my very existence.
Subscribers: 1
For each gaze that ensnares and every utterance that constrains; teetering on the edge of annihilation, I, a son, prostrate myself over the abyss of melancholic recollections that strive to engulf my very existence.
Subscribers: 1