Angels,
the most beautiful creatures,
the most admired and envied too.
But once unveiled, you can perceive their suffering, their despair.
Behind their smile and cheerful appearance their soul keeps bleeding.
This eternal pain is the damnation for their irresistible perfection.
That's why angels always walk alone, tryin to hold on to all those passing clouds which, passing by too fast, don't realise this magnificent presence.
So they slide through ever changing skies, pushed forward by the wind of inconstancy.
Left behind remains that one beautiful angel.
