My personal daemon

I guess what I am still not really know is how far it can go. Life is a good thing to get through. When I was sitting near the place of the street, I was looking there for the night become like dust. I get twine into the brightness of the big heap. Until the snow could beat my generous and also filter all the mockery of the limb. I guess no one knows where it could have gone. My clue was purposely waiting at the pace of my window heart. Collapsing into the big circuit of this perfect land with lamp. I was searching the energy that fuel that rampage and dispute all the tiny little mark under the skin so hard I couldn’t sleep with lots of it, I was fueling to dust.

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