Diary entry.

28th November, 1912
Today is a very sad day because my wife, Emma, died, yesterday. I feel very guilty because these last days I didn’t pay enough attention to her. I feel I can listen to her voice, calling me, trying to communicate with me. But I don’t know if this that I hear is a hallucination or it is something real. I am like lost, I don’t know what to do, I am feeling so guilty, I have to find the way to see her again as when our love was real and have the chance to give her all that attention that I didn’t give.
Now I’m going away. So to express and release my feeling I will write a poem, “The voice”.