This ain't your daddy's blues. This is the troubling kind of sadness, a numbness that sets in like a winter fog and just won't go away. Out here, in the {city'sworld's underbelly, there ain't no room for hope. Just the heavy silence of it all. But there's a way out, a temporary escape that takes the pain away. It comes in a little white tablet, a t
Across the wide plains, where the sun beat down upon the thirsty earth, stand rows of stark white crosses. They mark a history of sorrow, a tapestry woven with threads of sacrifice. Beneath them, the azure dome stretches endlessly, a canvas of tranquil azure. The wind whispers through the tall grass, carrying with it the fragile scent of wildflower
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