I used to write a grammar work for him on the following site. He tells me about the coming death of the next. I was dying while writing
Houses, angels, and stars were all hovering in a vast space of human destiny, and silence was no longer enough
As your eyes stare, Nazik
In the bucket the barn and the cows And your hands will cross on the tail of a cat When you end up exhausted you Hang your letters on the wall And do love and crime but
I was like someone shining in space, even
though I was close to his home on Earth.
Nazik you child aren't you and if your crisp or old voice come will i stop the witch for you from bringing you a life again will i see you sleeping in peace?