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A restrained elegance enveloped in a Slavic midnight hue.
She has a voice...
No one can cross...
She has a chant...
Like a 'Breathing Rose'...!
Her words are so simply hung. I love her words.
i like it very touching
I haven't locked the door, Nor lit the candles, You don't know, don't care, That tired I haven't the strength To decide to go to bed. Seeing the fields fade in The sunset murk of pine-needles, And to know all is lost,