Twelve Tribes. As Feathers To Flowers And Petals To Wings. Faith, Hopes Dirty Knife. Dodici Tribù. Come piume e petali di fiori Per Ali. Fede, speranze coltello sporco.
... I swear i never thought i'd feel this kiss awakening sickness to preying swine blessed clotting tears neglect my face left as a bitter empty self sunken
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