10 Mar

And this is how it ends
Not with death or devastation
Nothing apocalyptic
Simply with loneliness
With a lack
An absence,
As good as rot
Or slow decay.
The same way
Wears down
A rock
To be nothing more
Than sand
Slipping through
Between fingers
And the thin neck
Of an hour glass
The same way
Shadows extend
And creep
Over corners
Of a room,
In the coming dark,
The same way
That you realize
With a sinking
That there was
No point
To all of this
After all.

That is
If you let it,

This is how it ends.


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