Vova
@vovat97
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On a desolate sea coast, where the waves crashed violently against jagged rocks and the stormy summer skies rumbled with fury, a gothic angel stood. Her long blonde hair flowed wildly in the tempestuous wind, like golden threads against the dark, roiling heavens. Her black wings, vast and feathered like a raven's, were spread wide, absorbing the storm's chaotic energy. Her pale face, framed by the wild tresses, bore an expression of serene melancholy, as if she belonged to both the light and the darkness, a ghostly figure caught between worlds.
As the storm raged on, the angel remained unmoved, her piercing gaze fixed upon the horizon where the turbulent sea met the stormy sky. She was a haunting vision, a stark contrast against the fury of nature around her, embodying both the beauty and sorrow of a forgotten time. The wind howled and the waves surged, but she stood her ground, a silent sentinel of the gothic world, her presence a lament of lost souls echoing across the storm-battered coast. 0 reply
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