All the winds blow and minute take...
Don't know how his way had to pass.
Minutes caused is a burden not to lose.
I could just leave everything I took to wear.
Now I'm afraid and hope in vain
To say goodbye would be necessary, and I don't want.
It was once beautiful and warm
Cry, rant, and again drag.
And in his youth was the desire simple
Flew to the call, the light of love... and blind.
From the tears rose hope flowers
Dreams and all that is now ashes.
It is possible to produce a similar work with portrait similarity in photography.
Author Vera Shestopalova.
You can offer your price for the picture.
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