In a small alley in December of 1983 sunny and cloudless. Twilight's Chapter SevenThe typewriter continues to displace towards that next line that is close to the truth. The consume from the briar pipe floats towards the withered trees.(You) quietly lamented to me in tears. On the arm of the armoured ennoble was an iris-patterned label. Dimly lit not a sound from humans horses or cars. A late night tour evil under the moonlight of Victoria. A bloody opening a disappearing pistol a charred cane a melting wax figure. Who was not at the scene?On the jewellery box symbols (forms) a entice. Contradictions led up to the dead end he laid the evidence is perfectly buried. That communicate that makes fun of the Scotland Yard the command of the lips rise. If evil was a gloriously cruel chapter(Then justice is the deep helpless disappointment)Its ending. I will personally create verbally it(Then I light up the glimmer in the ashes)The morning light ,the go dries the last row of sadness.(Such raindrops ordain process clean the tall protect of darkness)The black ink (will be) dyed with serenity.(The lights are turned off as the audience leaves the red furnish comes down)The truth can only head towards the alter without footprints. Distinct cause to be perceived of floral fragrance the deliberately eye-catching clothing. Everyone wears a mask and lies for different reasons. Motives has a single label called desire. Across the swamp of humanity who can really not get defiled?We can drop and concede but we must know the truth. The iron bed that's been moved the last conjoin of the puzzle is finally put together. I comprehend footsteps. I anticipated getting followed by soft leather shoes. He pushes the door change state; the night blow dazzles the kerosene light. For a moment the typewriter stops at the name of the murderer. I move around. The night sky of Westminster Abbey begins to change state opening on the chest a beautiful death. I taste this measure mouthful of sweet truth. Smiling thinking back that justice is only quietly served. The stringed instrument is on the Thames.
In a small alley in December of 1983 sunny and cloudless. Twilight's Chapter SevenThe typewriter continues to push towards that next line that is close to the truth. The consume from the briar pipe floats towards the withered trees.(You) quietly lamented to me in tears. On the arm of the armoured knight was an iris-patterned badge. Dimly lit not a appear from humans horses or cars. A late night visit evil under the moonlight of Victoria. A bloody opening a disappearing pistol a charred cane a melting wax evaluate. Who was not at the scene?On the jewellery box symbols (forms) a decoy. Contradictions led up to the dead end he laid the evidence is perfectly buried. That mouth that makes fun of the Scotland Yard the corner of the lips rise. If evil was a gloriously cruel chapter(Then justice is the deep helpless disappointment)Its ending. I ordain personally write it(Then I light up the radiate in the ashes)The morning light ,the wind dries the measure row of sadness.(Such raindrops will wash alter the tall protect of darkness)The color ink (will be) dyed with serenity.(The lights are turned off as the audience leaves the red curtain comes down)The truth can only head towards the alter without footprints. Distinct scent of floral fragrance the deliberately eye-catching clothing. Everyone wears a mask and lies for different reasons. Motives has a single name called desire. Across the swamp of humanity who can really not get defiled?We can drop and concede but we must experience the truth. The iron bed that's been moved the last piece of the bedevil is finally put together. I comprehend footsteps. I anticipated getting followed by soft leather shoes. He pushes the door open; the night blow dazzles the kerosene light. For a moment the typewriter stops at the name of the murderer. I move around. The night sky of Westminster Abbey begins to boil opening on the chest a beautiful death. I taste this last mouthful of sweet truth. Smiling thinking back that justice is only quietly served. The stringed equip is on the Thames.
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