Poetry

It’s the End of the End

When you can touch the end

No time to hold,

No time to amend,

Into the void you stare,

With a heart senile

Too old, too broken to mend.

Is it really the end though?

The emptiness swallowing

A siphon deep deep below.

Or could it be A beginning so.

To end when the end is drawn, Indiscernible shall be

The point of dusk

And The point of dawn

Unsure each one,

To fuse into light

Or plunge into the depths

And be gone.

                                             ~ Shreyanshu Jha

                                               India

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