That day, a part of me died
Killing him inside me buried my old version
His face still wanders through memories,
But now he's just a ghost in my stories.
In memory of Pablo who is gone,
Death is not an act, it's a slow process,
You're dead to me, I can't reach you anymore.
An absence that infiltrates the heart without consent.
You haven't understood that time never comes back,
The things that bind us together become loose ashes.
Words we exchanged are now just traces,
And I ask myself: what are we if not memories?
Does death choose us, or do we give up?
What is death if not the distance between two souls?
You walk, but your footsteps make no sound.
And I cried for someone who will never be reborn.
In memory of Pablo who is gone,
Death is not an act, it's a slow process,
You're dead to me, I can't reach you anymore.
An absence that infiltrates the heart without consent.
