Death of my eyes is not a great loss,
Than the death of my tenderness.
But no-one notices the pain,
The reason that i love crying in the rain.
That time comes a stranger like an angel,
Holding my hand tightly,
When I forget to love myself tenderly.

It is the person of my dreams,
A friend of my future,
Who will show me the light,
And not the darkness.
Just a friend with all my secrets,
Pull me out of this melancholy like an egret.
© aves