At the end of the world there's hole with a door.
The door has a key, should you want to break free.
If your smiles have died, if you don't want to live.
To find the key to door.
At the end of the world.
If you really, don't want to live any more.

You must firstly, climb up the purple mountains and steal some eagles wings,
Maybe a brood of eggs as well and clutch them to you heart.
Initially, the idea is really rather strange.
Of climbing mountains just to die.
When you have your eagles wings,
When all the tiny birdies sing.
You may, yes you may.
Fly down the edge to the parapet of much regret, upon which you must sit a while.

Analyse your thoughts of death, write them on your mini-pad, the one all poets hold at heart and always keep stuffed in their satchel.
I'm sure you know it.
Leave them on the cliff edge, for a.n.other to read.
Spread the message of what you did.

Pop your wings back in place.
Soar through the sky with perfect grace.

Go to the shop at the end of the world and ask the proprietor for the key.
So you can get out, cause you want to break free!
The shopkeeper, said with a sad and sorry face, "I'm sorry love, the last one took it with them, and didn't bring it back".
Locksmiths, don't keep spare keys for the door at the end of the world.
"So, I 'm sorry I can't help you, would you like a cup of Rosy Lee.
You can unburden your issues, shift them to me".
After the wild flight from the top of the mountain.

A cup of tea from his cheerful fountain, was just she needed.
All that flying and writing had cleared her mind.
She flew back home.
When you hear the calls of eagles in flight, remember the fact the end is in sight,
Not in the cafe at the end of the world.
But, a good conversation and a stroke of pen and poetry.
Release your mind, a true catharsis!
(C) Livvi