There is a story in your flattering smile. That you know is not real but you tell it anyway. As if the winter was spring. And they make a dove out of the snake. And perfune out of death. Immaculate perfume out of a spider web. And the one that is caught in it, will only find death. But what is your play? Why are you lucky today? At the end of the way there will only be a destiny. Loss, despondency and that smile will transform into crying.
Answer: The Lie
Answer: The Lie
