• The end of beauty fast approaches.
    A slight breeze stirs the dead leaves.
    I stand, thinking of you, not noticing the leaves around.
    It’s hard to notice when you lower your eyes.
    The end of beauty comes and I have nothing.
    All I can do is to think of you and wonder why you left.
    I wish I was justified, I wish I was vindicated in wanting to end it all.
    I never win, I was born to lose, so why not end it all?
    Beauty’s end is almost upon us and I decide to see the bitter end.
    I know what you would’ve wanted, so I stand here and stare at the cracks. Beauty has ended, beauty is dead, and I stand alone.
    I love you....