The End

The End.

The End.
It does not come like a thief in the night.
It comes with blatant and obvious intentions.
It does not happen quickly.
It takes time, planning, and deceit.
It is a powerful, moving beast that pushes aside all those it fears.
It is too cowardly to fight directly and instead wears down the hopes and spirits of it foes.

Perhaps we allowed it to happen.
Perhaps we started fighting too late, or gave up too soon.
Perhaps we weren't mean to win.

The End.
What else can throw you from your home with no remorse?
A lifetime of memories and relations out the door.
What else can show you ever which way but the right one?
A maze of cruel intentions for its own pleasure.
What else can kill 1000 people and leave no remains?
A trick so good even I don't remember them.

Perhaps we could have stopped it.
Perhaps we turned our heads.
Perhaps it was just too obvious.

The End.
We fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
This isn't the first place it came to.
We laid down our own convictions and beliefs.
This is its doing, not ours.
We all must leave now.
This is was happens when you stay.

The End.


poetryAaron LinneComment