CW // SCARY THINGSใ
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โ ึน เฝ.' โจ.. ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ..โฉ
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คโ๐ขฒ๏ผUnraveling the anger within the flame, burning such bejeweling scraps into something aglow. Then the entitled peace, youthful bubbling upon the illuminated hue shatters into oblivion. Radiant as it seems, though under the surface beyond, hypnotic swirls engulfed thou's existence forward, never to make even a slight zephyr of midnight. The orphrey carved into the looming corruption embraces its unnatural manufacturer, dispensing such emotion to point of nonexistence on the isle. Blazing chroma venomous enough to spike any living being dishevel a petite and heavenly flora, ending the life cycle of the isle. โ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐. โธผ เฃชโ เพ
Through the lessening affiliates as the clock maneuver over its path, we, The SWAFFORD, launches a cry for recruiting newer enchanting fixes on a new journey, not allowing the darkness to ensue the spellbound tainted crest. Quintessentials ruling over those who are willing to represent our
AUNTS and UNCLE, between the years of
(1990-1997) and our
CHILDREN, between the years of
(1999-2009).
.. ๏น Remembrance
of the ill-fated๏น โ
โ๏ธ ..โMonumental lettering enunciate towards
@SwaffordBot alongside your sheets:
"Hope enchants the crucial thought of dismemberment, though I, (name, year of birth, @ username) masking the streets as (muse), wishes to be granted as your newer wandering illusion. I wish for the best of the best for SWAFFORD here on out." Your fragments of perplexed greatness shall be await on our door.
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