All Things End


The sun outside is shining;
I feel a chill in the air,
The Fates themselves I hear crying,
Drowning in the howls of despair.

Shadows fall over Eden
The future turns black as ice,
Flaming swords and poor choices
Bar the path back to paradise

Threads look so long at the beginning;
Tragically cut short when it ends.
Life is a shelf of books we write ourselves
On either end oblivion is its bookends.


Image:  Adam et Eve chassés du Paradis (aka Adam and Eve expelled from Paradise) by Marc Chagall, 1961; France