A couple of clicks and flicks of a wrist 
Every secret will be known to the public 
 
Do you see silhouettes 
in apartment 211 
An arm pulls back 
an object flies 
someone is down 
Her sobs are his lullaby                                                                                 He doesn't worry 

She won’t tell 
 
The Lights may be off 
But look a little closer 
Your eyes fall on a wall 
A wall of white 
separating two lovers 
Can you feel that 
The sense that your surroundings are lifeless. 
Bitterness  becomes 428 Sydney Avenue 
 
Purple Lips 
Fingers are colored blue 
A liquid is thrown on the stilled body 
There is no reaction 
Red, Blue, White shows up five minutes later 
five minutes too late 
At 1539 South Trove Road death is poignant 
 
There is nothing to see at Rigby Ranch 
The Blinds are drawn 
But there is plenty to hear 
“I hate you” 
“ Don’t touch me” 
“You don’t control me” 
The volume increases decibel by decibel. 
Then silence 
In five, four, three, two, one 
A new sound pierces my ears 
The sound of a newborns cry 
 
As the sun comes up my observations come to an end 
Speaking into the phone 
I tell the boss man that his will is done 
Those who deserve retribution have received troubles 
And the loyal have been rewarded their crowning joy 
 
I arrive at the gates of the council 
I arrive to my home 
I arrive to the place where their problems are no longer my own 
I arrive to the point in time where the NSA doesn’t have me spying and playing God. 
My duty is finally done.