You arrived in a dream, but you are leaving in a nightmare I cannot wake up from.
And in this perpetual vision of destroyed love story I sing a song, so quietly that no one can hear it. My words are futile, they are delusions of dead hopes; they are incomprehensible and they start their journey into death as soon as they are uttered.
But here is a story never told, never explained, the sweet ache of suffering, the acceptance of the fate no one desires, and I’m the writer of those words, the keeper of the greatest story never written. 

- A London minute