[CENTER]All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it,
nothing is so perfect that it does not descend to its tomb.
Rivers, rivulets, fountains and waters flow, but never return
to their joyful beginnings;
anxiously they hasten on the vast realms of the rain god.
As they widen their banks, they also fashion the sad urn of their burial.
[color=red]This is a multi-purpose blog where content revolves around the tainted darkness of my mind.[/color][/CENTER]