Plethoric Time Comments

Now with affluence became the soul of being. The time that was gone into Naught ail me. ........

The lost time is too heavy to bear with, on this tiny breast of my luxurious mind. The flowers and the butterflies in hurst

The voice that lashed onto the sheath of being, Singing the song of excruciating pain, Now with affluence became the soul of being. The time that was gone into Naught ail me. .....