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Im Georgi =]
Writing is like breathing.
I need it.
I love it.
I live off of it.
I am nothing.
How sweet they lay, the gentle skies
That comfort all the earth...
My love, does your heart forget
The promise that in stone was set...
She carries hair like blackened sins,
And subtle lines of crimson twins...
Beneath the moon, in whitened light,
There stands a candle strong and bright...
Loud, initial cries
Are heard through glass barriers...
My heart sinks back against my spine,
As to my fate it's here resigned...
Tue Happiness Isnt A Mystery, It Lies Deep Within Everybody. Those Who Find It Have Experienced Pure Sadness, And Learnt That Sometimes Sadness Can Make Your Happiness More Real.
You Never Know The True Value Of Life Until You've Seen It Reflected In The Eyes Of One Who Has Never Lived