Widowhood...
Until the sound of to this it sounds me word sad…
Until the sound of to this it sounds me word sad…
I have penalty of the widowers…
I do not go to lie that I am sad with the death of it… Because, for me, it will be always alive… present in my thoughts… protecting me with its arms…
Some say that the people, when they die, turn stars… Believe that it will look at always me, up there, next to the stars, with its sparkling blue look…
You are my star-guide, my love…
