The end is near, but what is the end?
Maybe it's all black,
Maybe it's all white,
Maybe it's like a dream,
But maybe it's all in our head.
The end, is it all an illusion, or is it real?
Is it comfortable or painful?
Is it warm or cold?
No one will know until it comes but then no one can tell us how it feels.
What is the end?
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book of poems (Discontinued)
Poesisorry I've been really bored then started writing poems and my friend told me to make a book out of it so here it is
