

The MeekSelfish, though it may be; it required little motivation. The beggar would fill his cup, and drink deeply, greedily. Liquid gold, garnish to a feast; he was a connoisseur of such small change. An undertow of urban prejudice; downtrodden, he needn't worry of fallacies and imagery to evoke a kind soul. Simply sit in a dank corner, parallel to higher society, and wait. Wait, and small prey lend their time to him. It was a perfect machine, oil slick and ticking.The Meek
He was a king, uncorrupted yet the guillotine still. Pardon me, I didn't see you there. Bless me, I am not here. A passerby moves with the current, the stream of consciousnes
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Collect some stars to shine for you
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www.dafnidouma.com .....
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I wanted to destroy something beautiful....
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:..Life is a fiction..:
:..Hayat bir kurgudur..:
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