If only the universe could keep up it’s existence with no fault, but to exceed it’s greatness with the truth. Fury thoughts refute the truth in earning sequences of a trivial kind. If the stars inject the right tones all the others align in a celestial tapestry that is properly calculated in a spectrum of just causes. If only the purity of the cause united with the disastrous proportions of a life capsules of a diminished light begs to question the significance of the distant realms of imagination. If the the selection of peace is labeled as a just cause to faultier that effort would be a grave matter indeed. Taking in tune the steps of a symphony the tapestry of light exceeds expectation of a sullen recourse of an injected thought of unkind gestures and otherwise unfruitful antics of a world cold with indifference. To suffer the green fury of the capsule unclean and faulty destructive fuller disposition of a doubt. Later debts include a serious inclined fees of otherwise set causes.
Manilla Villa™ 