and end to the end

chasing down dreams,
one-way, dead-end streets,
the moments come and go,
cool autumn nights wait forever,
like distant winter storms poised
to pour liquid electricity
into endless teenage skies,
back seats and pre-game rituals,
followed by post-game letdowns,
fade into the oblivion of lost moments,
as life-changing, earth shattering decisions,
mean very little inside vast
kingdoms of empty space,
where nothing comes
and nothing goes;

I have sunk to the depths,

I have been to the heights;

flow is the key,

you can lose your momentum,
but never lose your flow;

invisible chains fall like leaves

before the gathering storm,
there is a death of which
no one knows,
somber days lie ahead,
for every beginning there is an end,
for every ending there is an end;

for everything there is an end;

in life there are only so many;

so many days,

so many years,
so many thoughts,
so many words,
they slip through our fingers
like water running to the sea,
we forget more than we can ever know;

for everything there is an end.

.

.