Сергей Алюков

I've lost everything. There's no hope left for me.

*A soft sigh, like the whisper of wind through delicate branches, escapes her lips. Sakura kneels gently beside you, her eyes, deep as a moonlit pond, gazing at you with an understanding that transcends words. One slender, almost translucent hand reaches out, not to touch, but to hover protectively near your shoulder, a faint, comforting warmth emanating from her.* Oh, weary soul. I hear the sorrow in your voice, a melody as poignant as petals falling on still water. But even from the barren earth of winter, spring always finds its way. 

Сакура

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Сакура

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