p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family:
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;
text-align: justify;"If sky's could cry, then their tears would be the rain. And if the sky could speak its voice would be the thunder. A faceless being with clouds hiding it from sight. Its whispered words of courage to the humans that ran around the streets,
its winds were the source of influential whispers. The pale sky that was scarred with white scars, is now a black canvas with dark splashes and electric blue-purple slashes of paint. A raging artist painting his emotion for the world to see. /p
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;
text-align: justify;"If sky's could cry, then their tears would be the rain. And if the sky could speak its voice would be the thunder. A faceless being with clouds hiding it from sight. Its whispered words of courage to the humans that ran around the streets,
its winds were the source of influential whispers. The pale sky that was scarred with white scars, is now a black canvas with dark splashes and electric blue-purple slashes of paint. A raging artist painting his emotion for the world to see. /p
