"Scavenging bird, its my small plea to you,
Gorge on all of my flesh
Scavenging bird, its my small plea to you,
Gorge on all of my flesh.
Don't eat my eyes, don't eat my eyes I hope to see my beloved
Don't eat my eyes, don't eat my eyes I hope to see my beloved"


The Laborious script of mine agitation
requires a sword that scarlet inks the words of self-aberration, a deviation in mental function!
Yes critical is hermit's condition- unable who, would never cater the hermitage, whence away stayed he, in the melodious nights and...