03. November 2024

Fall, leaves, fall, die, flowers, away, lengthen night and shorten day. Every leaf speaks bliss to me fluttering from the autumn tree. I shall smile when wreaths of snow blossom where the rose should grow. I shall sing when night’s decay ushers in a drearier day. Emily Brontë


g a g a - 3. November 2024, 22:55
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