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Testo Home

Walking down the familiar hill,
Bare feet barely touching the dampground.
There is no sound.
There`s only emptiness all around
A movement.
A face.
Familiar still,
But only a mask of her former self.
Darkness longing to hug him close,
Like lover`s arms lost long ago.
And in the void,
He hears his name,
Mute voices calling out for him.
Testi Evils Toy