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(Tale Of Yore.) Butterflies with crystalware wings behind dream grace flitted 'neath the skies where the moon silver light occured upon the air. Here, in this sacred space as night deepens and moon paints earth with glow, we recall the legends of our past: eternally criss–cross. Our voices murmur into forest rivulet. May the moon’s reverent beams ever guide @TheeRomanovna, @CasitaOfHier, @TeenslnTimes, @PearryGlitz, @ENCouturre and @WaveTeen steps enlightening the alleyway through life’s ebb and flow. The moments we have partaken, like stellar corse aflame, do leave mark upon the mould through remembrance. Henceforth, all of this serve as tokens through the ageless ties that bind us, plying endless march of time itself. A tapestry, it is, of love and fellowship, wrought with filaments that surmount the confines of space and time’s domain. Let the moon carry our heartfelt wishes, and still shining brightly even amongst the darkest of nights.
Fondly, from our hearts to yours,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The Howarth.
ㅤㅤ
(Tale Of Yore.) Butterflies with crystalware wings behind dream grace flitted 'neath the skies where the moon silver light occured upon the air. Here, in this sacred space as night deepens and moon paints earth with glow, we recall the legends of our past: eternally criss–cross. Our voices murmur into forest rivulet. May the moon’s reverent beams ever guide @TheeRomanovna, @CasitaOfHier, @TeenslnTimes, @PearryGlitz, @ENCouturre and @WaveTeen steps enlightening the alleyway through life’s ebb and flow. The moments we have partaken, like stellar corse aflame, do leave mark upon the mould through remembrance. Henceforth, all of this serve as tokens through the ageless ties that bind us, plying endless march of time itself. A tapestry, it is, of love and fellowship, wrought with filaments that surmount the confines of space and time’s domain. Let the moon carry our heartfelt wishes, and still shining brightly even amongst the darkest of nights.
Fondly, from our hearts to yours,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The Howarth.
ㅤㅤ
❤1
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Forwarded from Golden Shores, Blues Of Goury.
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ㅤㅤ Blues Of Goury 𖦹 🍸
ㅤSearching for lost summer glory
In the expansive fabric of existence we are mere wanderers weaving our courses through the threads of fate. similiar to a ship seeking its lost anchors, we too are in pursuit of new family members who will sail this voyage alongside us.
With an affectionate heart and a willing spirit, come and embrace the warmth of our kinship. Your wisdom and love will be treasured beyond measure. With dreams as vast as the horizon, we open our arms to you. Let the bond of kinship grow strong as we welcome you to our heartwarming fold! Come to our bot @Gouriesbot to register yourself to be part of us
ㅤㅤ Blues Of Goury 𖦹 🍸
ㅤSearching for lost summer glory
In the expansive fabric of existence we are mere wanderers weaving our courses through the threads of fate. similiar to a ship seeking its lost anchors, we too are in pursuit of new family members who will sail this voyage alongside us.
Here are prerequisites for joining in if you fit the lines range of :
1994 ㅡ1997 For Aunty/Uncle
1998 ㅡ 2008 For Children
With an affectionate heart and a willing spirit, come and embrace the warmth of our kinship. Your wisdom and love will be treasured beyond measure. With dreams as vast as the horizon, we open our arms to you. Let the bond of kinship grow strong as we welcome you to our heartwarming fold! Come to our bot @Gouriesbot to register yourself to be part of us
𓇻 The secret password :
Ready to embrace the lost summer glory, I eagerly register to become a part of Goury's! Fueled by [name, muse, line] my soul takes flight to achieve membership in this illustrious family!
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Forwarded from ZEROFUSION.
(PARADISE)—BURN A LOOK LIKE
PROPHECY: THE PULSE, ENDED STILL, AS IT WAS. "WHERE MIND
ARE BOUND, They Speak and The
Voice No Longer Pass."
The sun goes down, casting shade bright. Blue shines forth, akin to stars gently descending. A word that's lost way. Shaping the emotions and destinies all around. Where this starts on 24 February 2025. Sweeping souls away in the soared, through, ZEROBASEONE's BLUE. Beneath the fracture to the heights above. A dystopian means of duality, like the world where light fades in the glow, along with #FusionOfBlue!
@Zerofusion.
(PARADISE)—BURN A LOOK LIKE
PROPHECY: THE PULSE, ENDED STILL, AS IT WAS. "WHERE MIND
ARE BOUND, They Speak and The
Voice No Longer Pass."
The sun goes down, casting shade bright. Blue shines forth, akin to stars gently descending. A word that's lost way. Shaping the emotions and destinies all around. Where this starts on 24 February 2025. Sweeping souls away in the soared, through, ZEROBASEONE's BLUE. Beneath the fracture to the heights above. A dystopian means of duality, like the world where light fades in the glow, along with #FusionOfBlue!
@Zerofusion.
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Drop @ family kalian dong, Arthes. Mama Howarth sama Howarth's Taesan mau main main
[DISBANDED] The Howarth: Butterfly's Nebulae Heir.
Drop @ family kalian dong, Arthes. Mama Howarth sama Howarth's Taesan mau main main
arthes drop dong, ini ge taesan tantrum di rumah
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(Tale Of Yore.) Butterflies with crystalware wings behind dream grace flitted 'neath the skies where the moon silver light occured upon the air. Here, in this sacred space as night deepens and moon paints earth with glow, we recall the legends of our past: eternally criss–cross. Our voices murmur into forest rivulet. May the moon’s reverent beams ever guide @Retroovies, @FantasticalHollerith, @KasteelOfDuisterg, @TweenyScene, @LiebertFamilia, @VonityS, @RogueLorth, @HouseofDeimos, @ShelterofWest, and @HouseofVermillion steps enlightening the alleyway through life’s ebb and flow. The moments we have partaken, like stellar corse aflame, do leave mark upon the mould through remembrance. Henceforth, all of this serve as tokens through the ageless ties that bind us, plying endless march of time itself. A tapestry, it is, of love and fellowship, wrought with filaments that surmount the confines of space and time’s domain. Let the moon carry our heartfelt wishes, and still shining brightly even amongst the darkest of nights.
Fondly, from our hearts to yours,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The Howarth. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(Tale Of Yore.) Butterflies with crystalware wings behind dream grace flitted 'neath the skies where the moon silver light occured upon the air. Here, in this sacred space as night deepens and moon paints earth with glow, we recall the legends of our past: eternally criss–cross. Our voices murmur into forest rivulet. May the moon’s reverent beams ever guide @Retroovies, @FantasticalHollerith, @KasteelOfDuisterg, @TweenyScene, @LiebertFamilia, @VonityS, @RogueLorth, @HouseofDeimos, @ShelterofWest, and @HouseofVermillion steps enlightening the alleyway through life’s ebb and flow. The moments we have partaken, like stellar corse aflame, do leave mark upon the mould through remembrance. Henceforth, all of this serve as tokens through the ageless ties that bind us, plying endless march of time itself. A tapestry, it is, of love and fellowship, wrought with filaments that surmount the confines of space and time’s domain. Let the moon carry our heartfelt wishes, and still shining brightly even amongst the darkest of nights.
Fondly, from our hearts to yours,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ The Howarth. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ