๐๐ฒ๐น๐ฒ๐๐๐ถ๐ฎ๐น: ๐๐ฒ๐น๐ผ๐ป๐ด๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐น๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐ผ ๐ต๐ฒ๐ฎ๐๐ฒ๐ป.โ
The darkest side of the moon shows up right in time when the glooms covered all the measurements of grace the city felts during this time. As the twilight and the smoke of cigarettes blew the nervousness away, the road seemed empty with no traffic lights clashing against each other. No honking sound was heard, but there was a sound of breaking glass. A bottle of whiskey was thrown under the stopped bus at the corner of the street, showing nothing but void emptiness. The night is still young to this day, as life maltreated them as no other peers would. Dead romance, burning roses and ashes are trailing across the asphalt, the black road that they used to speed up and run away from the jeopardizing lonesome. Truthfully, their reputations are dead by the daylight, as if nothing they could lose. But his phantom remains tall under the luminescent moon on the sky up there. Slowly but sure, he exhales a grey smoke from the cigarette in his right hand. Sharp gaze, an alluring personage with a broken heart and empty soul stare down the street along with his camaraderieโ who happens to feel the same way. The sun is not his safe zone, and he is an owl who prefers the night over the beaming sun rays hitting his head. Nevertheless, the night is going to be young forever. Hence the darkness that he likes until today, even forevermore in furtherance. The whiskey will never go out or empty, unlike his dried down tears on his retina. Tattooed on his mind, the city belongs to him in the middle of twilight.
The darkest side of the moon shows up right in time when the glooms covered all the measurements of grace the city felts during this time. As the twilight and the smoke of cigarettes blew the nervousness away, the road seemed empty with no traffic lights clashing against each other. No honking sound was heard, but there was a sound of breaking glass. A bottle of whiskey was thrown under the stopped bus at the corner of the street, showing nothing but void emptiness. The night is still young to this day, as life maltreated them as no other peers would. Dead romance, burning roses and ashes are trailing across the asphalt, the black road that they used to speed up and run away from the jeopardizing lonesome. Truthfully, their reputations are dead by the daylight, as if nothing they could lose. But his phantom remains tall under the luminescent moon on the sky up there. Slowly but sure, he exhales a grey smoke from the cigarette in his right hand. Sharp gaze, an alluring personage with a broken heart and empty soul stare down the street along with his camaraderieโ who happens to feel the same way. The sun is not his safe zone, and he is an owl who prefers the night over the beaming sun rays hitting his head. Nevertheless, the night is going to be young forever. Hence the darkness that he likes until today, even forevermore in furtherance. The whiskey will never go out or empty, unlike his dried down tears on his retina. Tattooed on his mind, the city belongs to him in the middle of twilight.