‘Illuminate my soul and preserve it' Souls can't quite hope, seems the stuff of foolish orbs, dark, or as their wont, comes cyclically revealed and fullsome ripe. Yet in those days, nights, count them, something is gently turning. Not without resistance,
Just now, happily shrouded
Just now, happily shrouded
Just now, happily shrouded
‘Illuminate my soul and preserve it' Souls can't quite hope, seems the stuff of foolish orbs, dark, or as their wont, comes cyclically revealed and fullsome ripe. Yet in those days, nights, count them, something is gently turning. Not without resistance,