MALECKA^^
tenis, slusanje muzika, crtanje, igranje..
Потпис
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn