Comments
Loading Dream Comments...
You must be logged in to write a comment - Log In
the sounds of the crows when they come to see me now, is not the same and the jest of it all is I can't recall my name. but I'll cling to a hope till I can't hold on anymore, anymore and for all the acclaim I am all alone and I see as I look through the hour. Unwordlessly detailed oil painting, most beautiful platinum brunette Italian white collar woman, wet, rain-soaked white blouse, tight red pants, rainy Coast city at night, neon lights, blue-grey eyes, octane render, 4k, award-winning, dynamic lighting, trending on Art Station