THE END

The way I think I might feel when my time will come.

  The End


    Mystique tales,
    distant stars.
    The clouds
    are so near.
    My dreams
    are but a lie.
    Darkness
    on the other
    side.
    Butterflies don't
    flutter
    in my gut.
    The end of
    days,
    nothing
    in the aftermath.

Hanna © 29 July 2003