If you think I refer to the view that we all know
an abstract that dreams blue, red, orange, and yellow
well, that can be seen as we channel in the night
as we glimpse the last pouring of daylight.
I love stories; I read them, I feel them
and more than that, I understand them
you share what you love
so I'll share one
This is not a story, quite a poem,
quite literature, but one thing I know
this is the truth, the whole truth
nothing but the truth, my truth
this is boring, boredom
won't force you to read
but if you find it interesting,
I'll do my best to proceed
stories aim to share and to tell
tell anything, share a thing
everything, every feeling
something about nothing
But the rule is simple:
read, learn, and move on
for the story does end
stories aren't permanent
I hate how I find myself at the ending
realizing things, and gazing at the beginning
looking back at the past, just looking back
for the past is done, you are not, but you are about
For a fool like me who believes in eternity
that things will last forever, even eternally
It hurts to know that all will end
even more to know that it cannot be bent
you can't do anything
better to know nothing
I became a taste of bitterness
I hate it, but it is it
Endings are void
once you reached it, you'll be lost
you'll know you're there
when you find yourself nowhere
and yet, I lost you here