When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
It's your road, and yours alone.others may walk it with you,but no one can walk it for you.
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It's your road, and yours alone.others may walk it with you,but no one can walk it for you.
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