The final words are spoken <br />and there were no goodbyes <br />but an abundance of transitions – <br />weary preludes before we die <br /> <br />And now I smoke my cigarette <br />alone, remorseless and conceited <br />burning out the flaming ropes <br />of memory and sentimentality <br /> <br />Asunder like how things end <br />before they begin – we are <br />a wound no longer, never <br />was there anything to bleed for<br /><br />Norman Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/endings-without-beginnings/
