The End...
The End...
What? In the end? But you have to accord,
With the times of the present. Thence, in the end,
I undress my royal robe, sword-like mustache, fake make-up.
The jaws full of pain after constant bark,
I quieten myself in the end. Looking at the banners being removed,
Untying of ropes, wrapping up of the curtains. In the end,
The whole world walking exiting away, in the very front of me.
The banging door at every closure, the harsh screech of hinges and latches.
In the end, what remains is just the end, else that tiredness…
Of looking back once again, to that that says “The End”.