ContemplationThe spray from the ocean stings my eyes and mingles with the rain and tears on my cheeks as I walk down the deserted shore. With the wind whipping my chestnut hair this way and that and sweeping my full skirts out behind me, I must seem the very picture of some grief-stricken widow, still seeking a trace of her long-dead sailor love. But that is not why I am here; that is not why I wander the beach and weep. I weep for beauty, beauty that is and was and never shall be. I weep for love, love that endures and passes and is lost. I weep for you and I weep for me; I weep for the world. The ocean is grey, grey like the sky, grey like the cliffs. GContemplation
Half-cladEyes of the WatcherYour eyes are a deep brown, pools of chocolate that captivate and drown the viewer. They hide a spirit of mischief and mysticism, of humor and thought. You are an enigma, your eyes laughing whilst they cry, and sorrowful when you are full of joy, hiding every emotion behind another, never allowing other people to see the true you. Yet every now and then there will come one who gazes into the pool and sees past the murky surface into the darkness of the depths beyond. Only they can make contact with the undines and water nymphs that guard and nurture your spirit. Your eyes, in their quiet mirth, lull those you watch into a false sense of securEyes of the Watcher
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Unfortunately, I fear it is too late for my soul to be saved from everlasting torment, so I am just gonna enjoy myself now, suffer the consequences and say Hi to Dante later
great stuff in your gallery btw
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