White dyed black.

Today I wanted to write a story seen in a different way, full of gray nuances. Although we live in pink tones, or try always to be happy.

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She carried the man she loves most on earth on her arm, he seemed wishful walking with her.

The two smiled across the hall, decorated with white lilies, placed on each stool.

But that road, where in the end they talked about Sara and Tobias, was the way to the lived lie, the direct path to the sad end, where the white is tinged with black.

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As if it were a curse, the one that chased Sarah in the books, nor the blessing of the angels changed the destiny.

In that way in which the tenuous music sounded, one of the two knew that only accompanied the excitement of the other, one of the two knew that love was not as strong, as the example in which they lived.

But the steps were taken, the delivery was blessed. That night that the soul full of sorrow, danced drunk to make lose the sadness that invaded it.

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The white was dyed black forever, there was never another love that day, just that of father and daughter, on the way to an altar, for a wedding that was dying, next to the lilies that grew old the moment they were born.

I say goodbye