All of us look for that perfect ending

one that leaves us in shivers at the inevitable realization

that none of it's coming back to us

Soon we're the only beginning left

and our stories might not seem so great

After all

only we have a spark that doesn't vanish or consume

but only becomes itself and many others

All of us look for a sign that we're the only truth

and while the whistle blows to pause someone else's game

we have to stop to count the players

of those who haven't already set down the cards

Never do we turn back to the voice

of a watcher who laments our ends

no matter how temporary

I am but a memory in a dark curtain who waits and is watched

while i rise to reveal the adventure or mystery next

And you

you're the music to each movment

like you can only be a part of something else and not a whole

but our fantasies only know how to lie

All of us are whole

our own whole

and all of us are waiting to catch a glimpse on the outside

to see clearly

but we're in ourselves and can only admire

while others look back to enjoy the view