Mybetrothed - Mourning

mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning
mybetrothed - Mourning

More Posts from Mybetrothed and Others

3 years ago

Watch "We Don't Talk About Bruno (From "Encanto")" on YouTube

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2 years ago

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.


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mybetrothed - Mourning
Mourning

Carnality

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