The idiosyncratic beguile of mine seems to pinch like a spur.The oblique way of designed thought.The ledge where no one likes to walk. Among the concourse I sniff the pain.I trudge and assimilate what is been thrown by you.I abhorred, but the laid fixtures hurts me only.The torrent of gooey gel drench me.The envelope of my thoughts seems to sublimate me.
the apogee of my sins embitters.The wrecked up pabulum sans with morality// frigggingggggggggggggggggg
the apogee of my sins embitters.The wrecked up pabulum sans with morality// frigggingggggggggggggggggg
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