She had taken so many lovers. Love stayed , love flew, love had put on always new , new faces , but she was tired. She would ask gloomily looking at the falling snow, "why am I blessed with such a curse?" And I would only look into her pretty sad eyes. There was nowhere now the wish to be loved by other. Nomore the wish to fly. Nolonger the wish to live. But since life was a truth she couldn't deny, she wanted to live it in a humble penitence. In loving the nature, learning the art of healing, winning over passions... ah! but even sometimes a genuine wish can not conquer the human passions. A storm lay beneath the calm sea of her countenance. Hers was a story of passion and not penitence. Lives were waiting to write her story. Unconscious though she was of her destiny, every man is somewhat conscious of what lies ahead. Destiny reveals itself in the bouts of passion and countenance. She had taken so many lovers. Love stayed , love flew, love had put on always new , new faces , but she was tired. She would ask gloomily looking at the falling snow, "why am I blessed with such a curse?" And I would only look into her pretty sad eyes. There was nowhere now the wish to be loved by other. Nomore the wish to fly. Nolonger the wish to live. But since life was a truth she couldn't deny, she wanted to live it in a humble penitence. In loving the nature, learning the art of healing, winning over passions... ah! but even sometimes a genuine wish can not conquer the human passions. A storm lay beneath the calm sea of her countenance. Hers was a story of passion and not penitence. Lives were waiting to write her story. Unconscious though she was of her destiny, every man is somewhat conscious of what lies ahead. Destiny reveals itself in the bouts of passion and countenance.
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