ONZ Onzin voor je leven!
Vrolijkheid troef in dit lieve forum vol humor.
By moonless night and shadowed breath,
I call the chill of ancient death.
Let roots grow twisted, let stars turn black,
May all who pass not wander back.
Let winds wail cold, let skies weep red,
Let restless spirits walk the dead.
Till dawn shall quake and noon shall fade,
This land shall dwell in cursed shade.
I call the chill of ancient death.
Let roots grow twisted, let stars turn black,
May all who pass not wander back.
Let winds wail cold, let skies weep red,
Let restless spirits walk the dead.
Till dawn shall quake and noon shall fade,
This land shall dwell in cursed shade.
Revolutions are the locomotives of history.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/jDiUACq.png[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/jDiUACq.png[/img]
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