Aug 30, 2025
even in death, his last breath was poetryexisting in the wind and on the breeze of"it used to be likes" forever remembering,yet never relivinghis lifewill never be what it used to be like.
N'Zuri Za Austin
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even in death, his last breath was poetryexisting in the wind and on the breeze of"it used to be likes" forever remembering,yet never relivinghis lifewill never be what it used to be like.
N'Zuri Za Austin
Normality wasn't in the days I'd left behind me: it was only to be found in whatever fortune placed in my path each morning.
María Dueñas