.jpg)
In that barren land,
A Floret, grows among thorns;
Calling out softly,
Like a whispering,
That comes gently on the wind:
"I Am Life to you."
A Floret, grows among thorns;
Calling out softly,
Like a whispering,
That comes gently on the wind:
"I Am Life to you."
No comments:
Post a Comment