Source:billionaires-road
An oasis where dreams come true,
Palm trees wave in the warm breezes.
Birds sing a happy tune of their own
Until the night exhales its cold breath.
Torrents of wind fly across the sand,
Covering all footsteps of the night before.
Dark shadows leave behind no evidence,
And tourists remain innocent no more.
THE DEAD GAME
Source:billionaires-road
An oasis where dreams come true,
Palm trees wave in the warm breezes.
Birds sing a happy tune of their own
Until the night exhales its cold breath.
Torrents of wind fly across the sand,
Covering all footsteps of the night before.
Dark shadows leave behind no evidence,
And tourists remain innocent no more.
THE DEAD GAME
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