bare foot she walked, leaving her prints behind,
the cold wind blows leaving her body shiver inside her white dress.
the trees shed their leaves, as the warm water flows down her eyes;
the flowers wait to bloom, as she waits to say the words hovering inside her head.
her dark tangled hair waiting to untangle down, like the waterdroplets flows down the leaves.
the fog surrounds her, making her see nothing, but a road whose end is yet to be found