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An End.

There always comes a time
When you can't take it no more.

The musical laughter,
The critical gaze,
The fun-loving way
And all such stuff
Seem like hay.

It's like an end
To an era,
An end 
To giving in,
An end
To holding on,
An end
To clinging tight
To what seemed right.

It awakens fear
And anxiousness of sort,
And trembles my heart
At the thought
Of an ending and a beginning
Without any prior knowing.

Still,
There's always a way,
When the night ends
It becomes a day.

Though painful
And empty as hell,
Some endings are
Better than,
Sustaining and enduring
The ripples of brokenness,
Taking my mind and heart
Towards a trench.

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