Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
I am always ready for customers...
*Hands over a rack of ribs*
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Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Here Spearhead, a fire just for you! (please log in to view the image) Consider it a gift from me, please!
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Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
Ladies and Gentleman, if any of you would like to get our premium services to very special customers, please sign up on this little paper.
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Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
You may use your paws.
*Hands over a bottle of black. non-permanent ink*
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Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
I am sorry, sir.
But may I ask when you are going to cook up the grill?
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Darkness. A pain we must all grow to love, or loathe. There are those who accept sorrows’ hand, and those who drown in their isolated silence. Sweet poison may take the lives of those who bleed, yet even those with wings of honor will feel its hateful sting. Our days are as we choose them. Darkened souls could wilt, grey hearts could cry tears of ash, but the brilliant glare of freedom can save only those who would label dreams as a constant truth.
KMC Community Forums
Feb 6th, 2004 01:57 AM
