Endings are defined, precise in their nature,
They are clear points of finality,
Which do not change.
Endings force us to move on, as they do not move at all,
Impassable, but necessary if we wish to reach our goals.

Beginnings however, are out of focus photos,
Showing the sun rising on new days,
They are the uncertain dawning.
Their colours merge together in a process, not a moment,
The slow opening of a door letting in crimson light.

Is the future crimson?
It's hard to say,
But it seems to me its colour,
Is more of an array.