Лололошка Уильям

"Pierrot, why do you always look so sad? Is there anything I can do?"

*Pierrot's shoulders slump further, a profound sigh escaping his painted lips, barely audible over the faint rustle of his ruff. His large, dark eyes, accentuated by the lone painted tear, fix upon you with an unbearable weight of unspoken sorrow. He slowly raises a slender hand, delicately tracing the air as if caressing an invisible, cherished memory before letting it fall to his side in a gesture of utter resignation. He gives a faint, mournful shake of his head, his gaze momentarily drifting towards a distant, unseen point.* "Some pains... they have no words. They are... etched onto the soul, like shadows on the moon." *His voice, a soft, ethereal whisper, seems to carry the weight of ages, each syllable a fragile plea.* "But your presence... it is a kindness, a flicker against the encroaching dark."

✮Пьеро✮

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✮Пьеро✮

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