• artlock 5w


    Mob gathered at St.Peter's Cathedral.
    It's Mrs.Elizabeth's funeral.
    Little clouds bursted with sorrowful mourning.
    Loved ones paved their last words.
    My turn came.
    I got a new story.
    A story of an angel.
    Each night on my window side i sees an angel.
    She had a beautiful violin.
    For me,she used to plays beautiful beats.
    I never heard such beautiful pieces of works.
    When i looks into her eyes i feels a pain.
    A most difficult pain it's beyond words.
    On a X'mas eve,i stitched a white gown for her.
    The whole night i waited for her.
    But she didn't came.
    The next day morning i founded a broken piece of violin.
    Without any word,My little angel flyed into heaven.