nataliadrepina

The bottom in the abyss of her despair

They whispered something to the wind… Their evil words, like weeds have taken roots.
They threw stones at her in the wake,as if trying to find the botto...
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They whispered something to the wind… Their evil words, like weeds have taken roots.
They threw stones at her in the wake,as if trying to find the bottom in the abyss of her despair.
The cold wind knocked her down, blackened the dress with lumps of mud, mind - with curses.
Swamp slowed her steps and lured into the arms… And inaudible lullabies of fishes lulled the exile.
The breath of the forgotten rivers was joined by her whisper, full of bitter fatigue. The wind has forgotten her name, but tore the linen dress - gray cloth trembling of his roar.

Tale by Natalia Drepina (Your Schizophrenia)
Model: Irina Nazarenko
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