One day you will remember, all those times
I wanted to talk to you, in the corner of my soul,
the lament, lost in the shadows,
my voice without a part because of despair.
I spoke to you of pain, I wove my words,
like withered flowers, fallen to the ground,
but in the echo of time, you never listened,
and my wounded heart sailed in mourning.
Your attitude was wind, tempest unleashed,
it swept me away in its fury, aimless and unguided,
and I, like a shipwrecked man, on the shore tired,
waiting for a whisper that never came.
There will come a moment, in the breeze of time,
where the echo is a song, a quiet murmur,
and you'll remember my words, the ones that were breathless,
asking unhurriedly, if my love has stayed with you.
