The navel too closely examined gives birth to only bad poetry.
The longing probed too deeply, gives rise to heartbreak.
The will to succeed can cut the legs off the ladder.
The hands of the clock are surprisingly sharp.
The striving for more, gains you nothing.
The misuse of life brings you death.
The end isn’t a new beginning.
The effort may not pay off.
The death of hope kills.
The exit is obscure.
The end is now.
The last word.
Is The End.
Finis.

ljm