It is not the burning bridge, or a close door
There is still laughter, smiles and dreams,
there is still purpose and life
But, now I walk in the middle of the night
And make conversations with the God
make castellations around my heart
I draw the robes of wisdom and tear them apart
I wonder how many empty chalices will be poured
how many fights with head and heart
how many constellations before the moon anguish ends
the joy that has gone because there is no one to pour
how many crashes before the shore