DARKSTRIKE18
Bentu
 
 
Our Land is Were We Tread.

Before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie. Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
Spakespear - Coriolanus

GOD WILLS IT !!!!
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CtrlAltD1337 5 Sep, 2012 @ 6:37am 
FUAAAAAARKKKKKKK

Anything in particular trigger your fuark?