The pitch of the night

I am getting angry with this situation and my anger in order to suppress, it is obvious that there is no intention to be silent at the highest pitch of the night, I frown in the wind blowing out.

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The wind, which is dragging my frowning eyebrows, throws my eyes into the sky. What I see in my eyes is freaking out with my brain.

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Like a festival, a colorful, sparkling and bright whirling, a feza. In the most disgusting shambles of the night!

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