Transformers Clip Art

Taming the tides of coffee grounds.

Cúbrome all of icy sweat, which remained Pale
withered grass;
And without strength, breathless, inert, Dead
look.
SAFO.

The coffee grounds, the curve of the back-spine of the soul, where infinity is lost leaving diffuse the distance between the trenches. The war broke out and the tedium of white flags not see the sun, which burns mercilessly. No truce, but is becoming more intense intoxication objective of rifles to shoot at will without distinguishing allies from enemies.

I will raise a fort to protect the uncontrollable in me, the streets deserted at night lurking without pity, crying children and music tragic. The toxicity so sweet that mana is a fatal attraction constant and necessary.

... 98, 99 and 100 . A I broke the silence, but nobody comes and disguising offset the loss, a battalion seen after the window, "my crystal-the coldness of the battlefield, still full of brambles and silence.

Explain

as the sun rises in our flat land, which portion of the arsenic is part of the acuity of your eyes and now silent, that is a joy lost battles nuclear silence of absence, memories and other diseases. Your army back drunk and lies in the twilight that protect the vast world that lies a worn mattress, freeing you from old ghosts and shadows fruits of emotional drought.

Dear viewers, rain out, if they hear the piercing cry of humanity crying sky, obstacle courses, and a fleeting immortality ... connection is lost.

. .. there is a world where the law does not exist and is just learning to tame tides. Deséate luck.