To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
Charles Baudelairethe Devil's hand directs our every move - / the things we loathed become the things we love
Charles BaudelaireTo the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
Charles Baudelairethe Devil's hand directs our every move - / the things we loathed become the things we love
Charles Baudelaire