When daffodils cry
I remember the night when the winds lay still and we held each other dearly as we, listened to the sacred thoughts of daffodils, as they shed their joyful tears beneath the moon, unsheathed in full splendor cast its rippled reflection upon the placid lake, as we melt and our hearts pour into each other from that moment, we knew that love was not an illusion…
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hellfire
Art….. is the footprint of inner essence – James Carver
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