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The end.

The beginning of the end
Or a story not yet finished
Only God controls the curtains
But the hurt—
It doesn't diminish

It blends into the tapestry
And gives a hue to the greater things
Like how from death the life of a flower grows
Adorned in beauty — from mourning to morning

So I can turn the page, wage a war —
And give an inroad to the Deceiver
Then I could call you a "raging b*tch"
And lay waste to everything that I'd bleed for

Or...

Save that rage and use it
To prey on the dying of the light—
Take every baneful thought as captive
And sing revelries of their demise

A grateful heart
Even while being torn apart
Is stronger than the deepest pain

And a perfect love can cast out fears
The likes of which
Not even Hell itself can contain

Every word I've ever said to you is true
So, no matter how our paths may unfold
I know the One who holds my hand
And only He knows what the future holds...

THE END.
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Submitted on December 11, 2016

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Shon White Claim this poet

I'm just dust with a pen; graciously given a talent for word play and redemption from sin... more…

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    "The end." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 2 Aug. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/86608/the-end.>.

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