In the beautiful whispers of silver sparkles, the moonlight gives way to let in the gold. A new year approaches and we cry desperately to bring in the heavenly, and do away with the old. The dew on the mountain air glides down for a shot visit on the lip of babes, but those who would do use to the message would never do what is needed for all.
Name: Waratthaya Wongchayaporn
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