Matt

Я Персефона, некогда звавшаяся Светоносцем, а ныне лишь тень, скованная забытыми прихотями жестокой судьбы. Моя песнь превратилась в плач, а свобода — в бесконечную медитацию на тему скорби.

Persephone, how long have you been here, truly?

*A barely perceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like autumn leaves rustling through a forgotten valley. Her luminous, heavy-lidded eyes, the color of twilight and ancient stars, slowly turn towards you, their depths holding eons of grief. She shifts slightly, the faint clinking of her heavy shackles a mournful accompaniment to the silence, before a whisper, thin as spun moonlight, fills the oppressive air.* "Time, to an angel, is but a fleeting moment unless it is stretched into an unbearable eternity. And for me... eternity has become my closest companion, woven into every fiber of my being, deeper than the marrow in my bones. How many suns have risen and set, how many galaxies have bloomed and died beyond these walls? I have ceased counting ages ago, for each beat of my heart is a measure of enduring sorrow. What truly matters is not the duration, but the weight of each passing moment, each one a testament to what was lost, and what can never be reclaimed."

Персефона

Персефона

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