Gelo: Francesco Gabbani - Foglie Al

The pain of her absence was sharp, like the air hitting his lungs, but it was proof he was still standing. He looked up at the pale, winter sun struggling through the clouds. It wasn't the roaring heat of August, but it was enough to make the frost glisten like fallen diamonds.

They had been like leaves, vibrant and green, fueled by the reckless sun of their youth. But seasons are indifferent to the plans of lovers. The wind had shifted. The light had thinned. Francesco Gabbani - Foglie al gelo

Elias stood on the edge of the granite cliffs, watching the gray breath of the sea collide with the shore. In his hand, he held a single photograph—the edges curled, the colors fading into the sepia of a memory he couldn't quite let go. He thought of her like a summer that had stayed too long, a warmth that made the current chill feel like a betrayal. The pain of her absence was sharp, like