If everything was wonderful,
How come I am again lost?
And seeking a bathtub in which to drown.

If all songs end with silence,
With what words will I make you come back?

If our future is out there,
Beyond this screen of rain.
If mirth could be found,
And inspiration is a girl.

Let all these things, including my memory of you,
Arouse in me the first and last prayer.
To a world without a maker,
A world where you are still mine and by my side.

The Piano makes a wish, and the Violin sheds a tear.
United for a final battle, a rambling of bad English,
And noble promises.
Your name had never been carried
On human lips with such devotion.

I need you!
Need you like food, like water, and air, and earth.

This is not passion, guilt for blasphemous kisses.
Not a declaration of intentions, or an invitation to a
close dance.

This is me.
A caller under your balcony.
The last and humblest of your knights.
Forever have I been here.
Dead or alive, fallen leaves, rain or shine.
I mustered my courage and conquered your vices.

But not all my letters deserves to be read aloud,
Nor all my compositions,
To be given wings by pale agile fingers.
Lone sparrows will still soar skywards,
But our lost love will never return to these shores.

Hear me!

Your beauty will never hurt you.
The vanity of losing your mind,
Could not be atoned for by millennia of blood stained diary
pages.

This is you.
I am here for a day, or a life.
Close the curtains, and cast the dice.