I wrote many times in the darkness of my room that lost count, of times the times I searched in my empty bed, denying me the facts of his absence, when the night approaches with his presence.

That it is strange that you are no longer there, that your brittle voice can barely remember it, embarks my heart as an anchor to a ship, one so heavy that it is impossible to lift, and a chain so atrocious that it can not be broken.

Stronger than other material, I sink again into the sea, in a deep abyss, in which the nights I can not escape, I remember that I was weak and that I did a lot, which did not work.

A bitterness that binds my reason, surrounds my heart and slowly ... it fills me with grief and every word that I have formed a consolation a redemption, for the weak boy that I was, and reminds me of a promise that I must fulfill.

Time will never stop and I have not fulfilled so many promises, that I can no longer ... I still have to safeguard, the words that once I created, I can not abandon them too ...