ᅠᅠ
Youth were spent to delineate our seasonal wheel of fortune, in exchange for drawing chattels or despairs shall our anamneses collected. Now and forever, 𝗲͟𝗮͟𝗿͟𝗹͟𝘆͟ 𝗽͟𝗮͟𝘀͟𝘀͟ 𝗴͟𝗮͟𝘁͟𝗲 leave your recollection open.
ᅠᅠ
ᅠᅠ
Foolish love anew for the sacred paper.
Where mounted grief amass in somber.
Was it true, all the clinging heart and admirer.
Was it ours never fill the plate until the fourth summer?
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𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡, 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨.
ᅠᅠ
