Something pulled them down,
Like the curve of a finger.
A whisper, a wind,
A wail, or a whimper.
Or maybe nothing at all,
But they knew it was time,
For the end,
For the fall,
Never stars would align.
The two of them dragging the ends of the blue
They fell to the earth to end them with blue.
The elderly man knew that age stacked like blocks,
It weighed on your shoulders
With the rise, fall of clocks.
It was time for the end of that forward motion,
He was dizzy and tired
They would silence commotion.
But,
The accomplice could not accomplish.
He splinted and shattered and slipped away.
It was the end of another
That would end that day.
It was the end of the first of the things he would slay.
Under his blue.
Onto his tray.
Unbeknownst to the dwellers dwelling in dwellings,
On earthy destinations, the ending propelling.
Was the last of the sunlight their eyes would have seen,
Before all life was covered with the ending blue sheet.
On the edge of the blue,
There is love, peace, and beauty.
On the brink of a slighter,
There is hate, fools and cruelty.
A misunderstanding,
Passion unraveling,
Two faces alike,
But one rueful,
One smiling.
One fading,
One saying
To the other it’s done,
And the other one falling
And wishing she’d won.
When the man with the beard
Finally arrives
When he shows his old face
It’s the end all of time
For years and for decades
He has hidden away.
For centuries and eons
He’s let the clocks stray
But it’s now when the time
Teaters and quivers,
It’s out of all seconds,
It’s lost all its vigor.
The sheet is pulled tight,
Taught, tied with a knot.
Sealing in all of what’s life,
And what’s not.
It shivers away,
The last of the day.
The end of then end,
Where nothing will stay.