Male - single - 24/06
Member since 15/01/2009
Though like a burning armour I made of iron my shade it was not unbereable for the rotten soul Who tries to reach my pain. Death's face. But for that time I was already sleeping Laying in pale red cheeks soft cheeks of Death's face Bed of Skin Kisseth by the moonlight's winters taste and the winter's Taste of myself
