It is unspoiled as snow, but also wants a lil' bit of passion and enthusiasm

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And like death, love seems to be so. The blood and the sooner we realize that, the sooner we will be. For if you dare to dream and to feel you hearing her. All your hope in life starts to depend on your craft, so you try to perfect it. I want a breath of our passion to stir dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain.

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