Elia
Silver Üye
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- Katılım
- 17 Ekim 2013
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- Mesajlar
- 8.693
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- 18
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When through the starry night
the mists of autumn glide
the air is filled with tragedies of olden times
Where with a dreadful tone
a nightbird plays its song
in forest dark at moors they come to life...
the mists of autumn glide
the air is filled with tragedies of olden times
Where with a dreadful tone
a nightbird plays its song
in forest dark at moors they come to life...