Upon Beauty Rests. For The Days We Fear The Air We Breathe. The Perfect Things In Poetry. Po Grožio atramos. Už tas dienas, mes bijome, oras, kuriuo kvėpuojame. Perfect dalykų Poezija.
... We're here, only to replace the air. On nights where the city lights shine so beautifully. It's a mirror image of the stars in the sky. Each are corresponding
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