![]() the forgery of a brutish blasphemyA Poem by h d e rushinSo I was thinking, How can Ben Carson go from Neurosurgery to this current iteration? We finally took the keys from mother on a morning with rainwater glow with the Shakespearian absorb of a fairies, maple seedlings. Relentlessly, she has refused to speak to us. The world would be soaked with blood, i'm thinking. The sexton would dig graves from now to Kyrie's earths flat ending. All of civilization that remains has been saved.
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2 Reviews Added on May 28, 2019 Last Updated on May 28, 2019 Author
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