The father seemed to be too hurt to wait for aid. Like he was going to finally die. I couldn't bear the thought with it, and I could see how the father's last force trembled in his hands, when he gave the baby in my hands.
Right then I knew there was no hope. I saw how these little birdformed angels flew away as I grabbed the child gently in my arms and pressed the cold, poor and innocent beauty against my chest... How the birds sang a sad melody. White and black birds.
They rise in the skies as I grow alone.
I guess I really must apologize for how much my style changes. I don't like to point out my faults and stuff too much in descriptions, because it makes my fellow deviants unsure about themselves and gradually prevent them from submitting stuff.
Anyway screw that and I'm REALLY sorry that I'm a boring person to +watch, for I really have no stable way in things I draw.
But if you have +watched me for that, my sincere thanks...<3 Dekhail ©