The End

The petals fall into the cold sparkling mirror,

Until only one remains, clinging desperately

To the sallow and drying stem . . . fading.



The globes within your eyes glitter with

An emotion unkind yet undeniably alive.

And as that petal begins to fall, faded



An opaque pink reflected, the crystaline tear

Falls in unison, staining your cheek

With its pure and gentle taint so soft.



And your tear, so light, becomes murky

As it hits the mirror, shattering its calm

And glassy surface. It is the End.