This void, is left rotting. Unattended.
This guilt, still haunts to this day. Endlessly.
This ardor, has already turned to stone. Mercilessly.
I beg thee, Stor Mo Chroí, for a second chance.
Forgive me.
This guilt, still haunts to this day. Endlessly.
This ardor, has already turned to stone. Mercilessly.
I beg thee, Stor Mo Chroí, for a second chance.
Forgive me.
*title taken from Mary McLaughlin song(s).
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