Sister

The ModestThey came in millions, All with swords gleaming, Menacing in the bleeding sun, Lost! lost all of them, History became undone,The Modest
Red-stained, steel armour breaking cool winters, Eyes of fire burning the villages sprawled around, The war march spreading fissures in the ground, Hand of doom crushing the crown to dead splinters,
Look at them run, Only to face a charging beast, Let their courage aid them, And their hearts not betray them.
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Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief. All kill their inspirations, and sing about their grief. ~U2
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EE Hyndman Photography
Thanks so much!
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EE Hyndman Photography
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This is where I have always been coming to. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point to which everything ran, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, and those other times are running elsewhere.
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This is where I have always been coming to. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point to which everything ran, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, and those other times are running elsewhere.
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This is where I have always been coming to. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point to which everything ran, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, and those other times are running elsewhere.
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Life is a sickness, and the only cure is death... But still, everyone avoids the death as long as they can... Why? Everybody are masochists...
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