It is too late now

 
It is too late now
to turn back the clock.
The minutes flee vertiginously
demanding their share of oblivion.
But the history of each being
has more anchors in yesterday,
and that yesterday invokes you ceaselessly
in each of my thoughts,
in every secret tear
that decides to fall into the void,
the work of a tireless memory
that won't leave my mind alone.
It's too late, too late
to go back and heal
what foretold an inexorable end.
Although in my existence will persist
the firm decision to fight
against the ungrateful need to forget...