Testes

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Testes

Mensagem por Elizabeth Castetile em Qui Maio 14, 2015 8:35 pm

I remember tears streaming down your face When I said, "I'll never let you go." When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone." But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight. Just close your eyes, The sun is going down. You'll be alright, No one can hurt you now. Come morning light, You and I'll be safe and sound. Don't you dare look out your window, darling, Everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby, Even when the music's gone.
safe and sound


O orgulho pode ser um impecilho e tanto na vida das pessoas. Aglaya sempre tinha de manter a pose, como se ela própria fosse a czarina da Rússia, só para não dar o braço a torcer. Entretanto, a moça sempre se arrependia mais tarde por ser tão ácida com as pessoas, assim como estava sendo com Derek. Logo ele, que tentou confortá-la após seu desabafo; logo ele, que era tão gentil e atencioso; logo ele, que despertava um turbilhão de sentimentos que ela era incapaz de reconhecer. Seu toque havia feito com que um formigamento se formasse na área em que o príncipe tocava, e aquilo não era o bastante; ela queria mais. Queria que as mãos de Derek percorressem seu corpo; queria que ele quisesse ela. E mesmo que isso fosse completamente errado por ser ele o noivo de Penélope, em seu coração parecia, de alguma forma, certo.





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Re: Testes

Mensagem por Lillith Dell' Aquilla em Sex Maio 29, 2015 9:35 pm

Then the bird said, "Nevermore".


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore - Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.'

Edgar Alan Poe. The Raven.

▲BY LOONY!


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