May be I've written all I had to write,
may be I've said all I had to say...

The gate was closed,
the river dried,
the portal sealed,
the poet died.

I've packed my things while there's still time,
soon they'll march in here and take this too,
I don't feel nothing I've lost the key,
but then again what's it to you?

God if the crime I commited was charged with sin,
by heaven's gates take anything,
anything but my palpitating fingers,
return to me the empty words,
the shattered puzzle I cannot complete,
to form the feeling that still yet lingers.

For what's a singer without a song?
What's a knight without his sword?
What's a writer without words?

Take the sunrise from my eyes,
or the music from my mouth,
take the songs out of my ears,
take it all that I adore,
but oh God let me write once more!

"What kind of bird is that?"
I ask as she shows me the photographs she took.
"It's a cardinal. There's many around my house."
"You should stick to photography, make a career out of it, I'm sure you'd be a great photographer!"
I love taking pictures, but my odds of ever becoming famous are slim."
She says it not only admitting defeat so soon, turning away from her dream, but also the dream of her number one fan, myself...
That's a lovely cardinal then!

She danced around on the balcony floor, then balanced herself on the metal railing, tip toeing like a circus acrobat.

I was walking home down on the street and noticed her presence when her keys fell just beside me.

She ordered me to come in with her index finger, then blew a kiss my way, jumping carelessly on one foot.

I ran to the fourth floor tripping over steps, dropping my suit case on the second floor,  
I threw myself to unlock her door but noticed it slightly open.

She blew a kiss once more from the balcony, her small round lips now locked to the mouth of a small caliber gun. She winked with her green eyes blood red, salted with tears. For an eternity of a second nothing but silence, then a flash, then crimson red, then nothing.

I walked towards the tiny acrobat, hoping some sort of net had caught her in her fall. Past the railing, down on the street, she posed towards the stars, as if she were one of them,
finally returning home.

Even in rainy days the sun is still out there,
somewhere...

Therefore I have faith that one day you'll return,
someday...