Verdict

The point was, he had swallowed the pawn. The world rips apart and ultimate wintering sets in. Shy of one truth, the hour of reckoning demands the blood facts. You could have destroyed me if I were to sing. There were no crisis. Dismemberment went on to squeeze honey from the hapless victims chanting Hail Mary. I sizzled in vain. Choking on your trumped up victory, you will break in the house to find the silver god stolen from a golden mantel. You climb on a tall tree and then disappear in clear blue. Satish Verma