“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
Op vrijdag 13 augustus 2010 22:15 schreef Karina het volgende: Die zou ik wel doen voor 1 keertje. Alleen dat hoofd is niet zo geweldig, maar dat lichaam is wel
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”