She is woven from night’s silence and golden memory.

The moon upon her head is no adornment — it is the seal of the chosen.

In her hands — the heart of the raven that has known the shadows,

and the pomegranate that remembers blood.

Time is blurred here, like a dream.

She brings calm to those who seek answers not in words, but in stillness.

This is not a portrait — it is a threshold.

  

Silent 

He is neither laughter nor sorrow —

he is the pause between them.

Not a mask to hide,

but a symbol to reflect.

He walks the line between illusion and insight,

turning performance into poetry.

Each color on his skin — a story untold,

each glance — a question unanswered.

He doesn’t conceal.

He reveals… through mystery.

  

Arly

A soul suspended in silence — not here, not there.

She listens to the echoes of unseen realms,

where past and future blur into one breath.

Every stroke is a whisper,

every shadow — a memory she doesn’t own.

She is waiting. Or maybe remembering.

The veil is thin… and she is the veil.

  

Between…

He is not merely a cat — he is a shadow of ancient royalty, cloaked in velvet silence.

With a paper crown and eyes that see beyond time, he stands beneath the crescent moon — a forgotten prince of the unseen.

His presence whispers of secrets buried in candlelight and lullabies hummed in forgotten tongues.

This portrait is not a depiction — it is an invocation.

He chooses who dares to meet his gaze and who may pass unnoticed.

  

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Anastasiia Korniichuk

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