Woman

This is the story of your woman
she preferred to love than to be loved
she preferred to hear than to speak
she preferred to love than to be loved

Now her portrait lies on your table
the only thing it owes to her

This is the story of your woman
She thought to be a little star
she thought to belong to the sky
but now she belongs to this grave

The wind is blowing for her missing
the sun is waiting for her kissing