These were the children of wrath, the fire god. What I am watching was a subtle suicide pact taking on the style of a civil war among sparrows.
The transmission was offering a dark vision of future. The skies were not answering the prayers. The old lover wants to come back in small land to forbid the division of hearts.
No resonance comes after the surgical strike. You remember the sunset on the mount of your palm. I said, you will survive all your enemies. I distil the eyes for the coarse admission. After all, the poem has a meaning.
