Meeting Mr. Pan is like meeting melted lava
some go straight to the core of one's being
Desperate one calls for the demon-angel:
Make me waver, sway to the tones of flutes
I wanna take dancing steps into mid-air
blindfolded, blind to hearing and thinking
if so I shall bow to your magic
forget the glues that keep together
what never was meant even to be born
morals, anti-love, hatred, double standard
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-06-27 11:02:23
Last Login: 05.22.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 97
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