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This is how it ends

Wandering through the maze of life in loneliness of crowd the fate spoke in whispers.
From million of possibilities the face stands and watches in wonder.
The gate opens and it walks in through the small opening of the broken wall watching
in wonder with curious pair of eyes. Innocence has its  style oozing with child like excitement.
The touch of life was new to the garden with dying flowers. It started to long for the touch
and soon the smell of pure joy was flowing in the garden. Unlikely the reflection dawned and it
opened through opaque glass wall. The sparkle in the eyes were infectious with energy
of 100 suns.

It melted the false morality and the old grease collected over ages in seconds.
Inverse square law was no longer applicable it was just product of collective warmth.
The days passed and adventure was on. The garden was no longer lonely.
The dreams lived and blossomed. It came in all shapes and sizes.
The pointy ones were the cutest. It was an addiction. Disease beneath was born.
Like a true serial killer it lied hidden in plain sight.

There was always the dormant wound caused by the earlier experience. With time it healed
and a false sense of pride emerged. It was supposed to be fun and exciting. The end was always
known. Shortness of the journey is a blessing but still the new pain is unyielding.
Seeing the sun fade and the incoming dark night brings back awful memories.
I thought it will be different this time but its not. When all the hope is crushed and shrieks of
pain engulf the skies the life still moves on. The face we put on shows no emotion may be a
hearty resolve but inside everything is rotten. Will anything ever grow on it. Why the lessons of
life so hard to learn? The date is final and the end is near. As reflection fades a painful memory
takes its place. The climax was know from the start still the mind wanders wants the things that it
can never have. Want to make a round peg a square. The fate is written and the ink is dry re reading
it will not change a thing. Even when the drying breath of the garden wants it the flower
will not blossom again. The choices made were final and the vows were sacred.
There is no one left now in the dark corner where even the self do not venture.
Wait is slow and painful. Every passing day is making it bad but we are all prisoners of time.
I need to push through. So it ends now..I can see the death already.
The night is long and lonely but it is all i have left now.          

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