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vassoga
— Akrel Pradu ir.
Published:
2014-01-27 16:00:05 +0000 UTC
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Description
'A falcon, continuously turning inside of a growing circle, without the ability of hearing its hunter; Everything falls apart, center won't be able to hold on. Upon the earth that oscillating through the pure anarchy. The Ceremony of innocence drowns, while a blackened by blood tide flooding everywhere; The best one's lack of faith, as opposed to worst one, the one filled with wrath. It is close to the disclosure of some certain facts. It is close to the resurrection. While these words pouring, a vast image of a consciousness that shared jointly obscures my view. A shape, somewhere around the dune, with a body of a lion, with a head of a human, with a blank look and ruthless as the sun, slowly wriggles its body. The roving shadows of the furious birds of the desert. The darkness is coming again; But i know that now, which vulgar creatures humback will be put up through the eternal plain. This sleep that continuied through twenty centuries, dissatisfied by a rocking cradle. When the time has comes at last.'
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