With inarticulate and piteous cries, Unheard, unheeded in the barren waste, To be devoured with savage greed and haste. ☾ — Маленький волк.
I’ll be okay.
Thoughts, and rambles.
SWEET LIKE CINNAMON.
DCLXVI. ANDROMALIUS. She ruleth over 36 Legions of Spirits. Toxicity, a woman so deceiving and vile, her iniquity strong dancing along her porcelain features. Are you afraid? Do you dare seek comfort from her dead gaze? Tongue taunting you, drug along every orifice of your body. Taking in that succulent taste of the purity that oozes from your pores like sweat on a summer day. You. Are. Hers. Be a good baby, do what I want.