He stairs into the deepness of the dark night
With the quiet tapping of rain upon his window
Rain falling from a crying sky
Rain falling like the wet tears that should come
Tears that have stopped like a dried waterfall
Never again to rush and swell with water
His dry, bloodshot eyes look down to a blank sheet of paper
A pen, like a knife, starts to bleed words
Words, like fire, spread across the paper
Words of hate for himself and others
Words of dedication to nothing and everything
Words of sadness and depression
Words of death and darkness
Words from a mind like the universe
Changing
Expanding
Destroying
And coming to peace
Words that explain and define his very soul and personality
He looks up from his paper
With his dry, bloodshot eyes
Knowing that like that dried up waterfall
He
Will never cry again
Just at that moment
The sky, like that waterfall, dries up too
Breaking into dazzling specks of light
Light like the millions of words in his mind
Running on and on forever
The book closes and the paper is gone
Gone like a fire put out by the wind.
