A morning in magenta, the petals fed from the dew. She held her breath for a moment, to pause off the stream. Still clinging to vast, old memories. And
night lamp that never faded away. Farewell was the word, and the afterglow was the brave morning. Rising and telling everyone about the beauty of its PROLOGUE
Traduction: Opeth. Prologue.
: A morning in magenta, the petals fed from the dew. She held her breath for a moment, to pause off the stream. Still clinging to vast, old memories.
