Our Violet Walls

Endings.

Happiest as we want them to be,
Desires to fulfill the needs,
Cravings of superior ecstacy,
Getting erased by unusual endings.
Pictures that are unfamiliar to the heart,
No reason for the initial start,
And the hopes for the beautiful art,
That might get painted with the the endings.
But nothing hurts worse than this,
Receiving unaccepted letters,
In the mailbox that has been rusting for year,
Pouring salt over the bitter endings.
While finding any reason might be stupid,
The heart has already withered away,
All that is left is to attach a reason,
To the already occurred endings.
What is there that we can do?
Anything that we can control?
For all I realise I am no one,
To put am ending to the reason.
For the time continues to flow,
The ends are for the desires,
The thoughts that find freedom in the stores,
Of the feelings of failures at night.
And so it ends. With a single thought.
A single chair, a single noose.
It ends leaving horror behind.