Moreover it was, when ý saw the traitor. An accident ; not injuring the legs ,but the heart. Reality was it; guessing it one love, carrying two in mind ? Tempted to go since the begining, as if the rivers never flowed, Yawning eventhough it’s not night,sleeping with one but aside. No matter if we shouted,we stopped or we died, A bitter end smelling like lots of tears and blood.
Demir Ferhat Bilal / 08/ 09 / 2011
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