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thy name is solid, unlike our innocence. |
| Signing off The noise roars in the pin-drop room a hum of the peaceful white sun scorches, lulls and poisons deities of the golden, perfect harmless, harmful shadow of innocence. Have you no doubt to the silent sleep of blood thirsted wide and gorged rust wined wire. oh, seconded ability indifferent to change and, different to a bloody accent can you not deny a mummer, a masque, of omnia sol. deny me yet again, the passage to the shadows a hall in which has no name but a virtue to wager on-- and as we continue to sign our fates in our shell-like personalities. we remember. thy name is solid, unlike our innocence. |