And the angel made of snow And the feathers waiting still To fall over us, to fall over Our dreams: to set them free I see its wings singing wild, Mirror to my heart. My darkest depths, My brightest heights. © Virginia Marín
And the angel made of snow And the feathers waiting still To fall over us, to fall over Our dreams: to set them free I see its wings singing wild, Mirror to my heart. My darkest depths, My brightest heights. © Virginia Marín