please let me do the honour
of leaving prints across your face
mood: angry/hurting/ bitchy
music: probs song
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
THE CLOUD-MESSENGER
Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise
The palace balconies thou mayst not slight
In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes
That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight
Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight.
Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise
The palace balconies thou mayst not slight
In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes
That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight
Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight.
No comments:
Post a Comment