.
.
.
There is a beauty that can’t be bought,
but it is your birthright,
do you know what it is?
What is it, Master?
It is this rain falling onto the pond, making small circles.
.
.
The Journey Home
The Journey Home
.
.
.
There is a beauty that can’t be bought,
but it is your birthright,
do you know what it is?
What is it, Master?
It is this rain falling onto the pond, making small circles.
.
.
