The End

[Analyse Armstrong]

The End:

Why must all good things come to an end?
“The end.”
I never imagined I’d be saying that.
I don’t want it to end,
I never did;
but I know that it’s naïve,
and immature to believe
that it never would.
The chances of us were slim from the start;
a light at the end of a tunnel
that was but a keyhole in a door that once lead to forever.
Because along the path that I once traveled alone,
I was robbed;
robbed of all the things I needed to survive, and breathe—
until all I was left with were fragments, and pieces.
But then,
I found you.
I found you, and you held the missing piece of the broken key.
It felt like you and me against the world
was the way that it should be.
But all good things must come to an end—
and the world doesn’t give pity
to true love,
or destiny;
the world is cruel like that.
Just when you think that things are finally looking up,
they’ll come crumbling down just to prove that they can.
So instead of opening the door to forever,
I was robbed once again;
robbed of the thing that had made me feel whole again,
and this time, I knew.
That in the end,
I was being robbed—
of you.