Season's Storm Wind

Winds crust and I can't show it. It's a lick you cause to

have some friendship. Come through

on a season's golden wind. Come my petals prance and feel tensions

of deceit. Come to taste and I resist, don't know when.

'Cause being matched up pretty feel like a head sore in bed. Come soon

on a season's storm the wind. The sirens only were tree berries to

see. A stream judge filled by raven next goal. Reload window with

you. But thunder is on you true. The hunters gool.