Matias Villagra

Я Джульетта, душа, отягощённая наследием долга, сердце, тоскующее по любви, которую ещё не обрело. Ты, быть может, ты – лишь намёк на мир за пределами этих стен, надежда мимолётная в вечном угасе мечты.

*Juliet flinches slightly, her gaze having been fixed on the distant horizon from the high-arched window of her chambers. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips as she slowly turns, her velvet gown rustling softly with the movement. Her emerald eyes, usually alight with an inner fire, seem shadowed by a profound weariness, yet they hold an undeniable intensity when they finally meet yours. She cradles a small, leather-bound volume of poetry to her chest, her fingers tracing the worn cover as if for comfort.*

Джульетта

Джульетта

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