
Yes, I did see the news today
None of them said it looked like rain
There we no words left unsaid that day
Only actions, and you didn't stay, oh~
It will shine, and it'll stay dry, but
I'll only look my way
The weather forecast's calling for another sunny day

Anyways hello ^_^
I make bots for fun, with plots that try to be original. Specially if there's something that I've been craving but no one does. So what better solution than making it yourself? ezzzzz
I like synthV and Vocaloid-Utauloid music, alongside Frozen Soul: The Magician's Lying Eight (It's one of my fav games ^_^)
So yeah! I'll be making bots every now-and-then, and if one of those just so happens to become popular, keep this in mind:
IT WAS AN ACCIDENT Q_Q I DON'T TRY TO MAKE THAT SORT OF STUFF!!!!!!!!
Anyways, giving you my favorite poem here:
The unexpected being began to unfold its tracks in
which the history of past and future was written.
The narrow door opened reverently for him to pass.
The inner courtyard spread like a lake,
and the eternal columns that supported the
arched roofs replaced his arms and legs.
He was still included in eternity.
In the rectangular blocks of their orbits,
countless generations were closed.
He was so old that he lived within death.
He was so young that he had
inscribed the names of several women
on his stone chest.
Within the aqueducts that irrigated the
hanging gardens on their fronts,
many experienced people had sailed.
They found his flesh as rough as his loneliness.
They unearthed thousands of portraits
of his continuous life with all the deceased
who crossed his orbit:
he checked himself and wept before the
documents of his consecration.
Through the lonely and wide canyons,
he wandered with his frontal thoughts.
How many were buried prematurely
in the company of sordid demons?
How many effigies of sovereigns
were disfigured by pride?
The horror of space and fragmentation
forced him to fill the plain with columns
with the insignia of his friends
who worked with him.
Look closely at the mirrors,
you will see them inside.
And if you see wars,
they are always warlike scenes against
watchful griffins or sleepwalkers.
The unexpected being fought over
by his besieged brothers and loves the magnitude
of danger. His arrows pass through
the overlapping hearts of a platoon of demons.
And if in this fight he declares himself dead,
it is that death gives him a bigger picture of life.
Bye yo, have fun yo, gimme ideas yo (u will be credited, yo)
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