Adora Williams

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Wednesday, May 25, 2022

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My soul slips through my hand, that produces words while life pretends
To be the blue created by a god, and blood screams the world of men
As the rain is cried by the sky, in silver gleam remains from the goddess satellite
Last night
...
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Adora Williams

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Adora Williams

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2/28/2026 7:09:14 PM # 1.0.0