Poetic clouds as the skies proceed to chatter, the messages of time is primed to a gloss in its lacquer grace is at the first, at the heights, beyond visuals memories of residuals, reminders of the past and the present sacred rituals birth makes us equal. Yet the knowledge for most remains hidden as the motives of the lost are selfishly based on according to who's winning? It's the keepers of the light versus the creatures of the night
Zembuque Owello
@Zembuque · 3:43
I don't got my mashupina. I know where she Babu Kat. Missy Nagari. Not again. Not again. Savile. Me and I. Come, come in. I bela Fadiri, shaman, you know. Give me my ship. Enough. You got even. I know it. Go find me take out missing and