falling blossom's dance: in the passing wind, as if; it had a soul, like the wind blowing through the ever growing trees. now, more then ever, does mother earth need's us so stop fighting, and start to help, or die from us.
If God Was Real, Then He Would Not Have Put Me On This Earth
they stare at those four blank walls, there fear rises i need to kill the prey, as eyes as green as flame itself, as fangs as sharp as blades of steel, with speed thats second-to-none, i hunt the prey. mrgreenbiggrin