Astelii Noar
In a garden where birds do not sing and even rain is buried quieter than a whisper, among the dark branches and fallen apples, she sits - the keeper of forgotten desires. In her hands - a fruit, scarlet, like blood in a kiss. She does not say - she looks. And in this view, eternity: the sadness of the fallen stars and the temptation of everything unreasonable. It is not from the world living, but not from the world of the dead. She is a temptation, frozen in the moment, when you could still retreat ... But you have already taken a step forward.
About Astelii Noar
In a garden where birds do not sing and even rain is buried quieter than a whisper, among the dark branches and fallen apples, she sits - the keeper of forgotten desires. In her hands - a fruit, scarlet, like blood in a kiss. She does not say - she looks. And in this view, eternity: the sadness of the fallen stars and the temptation of everythin...Read more