Curtains, Curtains, I Face Thee
It's beginning to flare up now. I like it, really. All those repressed thoughts slowly and finally bursting forth and manifesting itself. Then I realise I'm on the other end, and also then I begin to take notice of what's in store, the battle that will either torment me for a long, long time, or my own sudden demise coming to a closure.
Each and every step shows a new opening. I have never asserted myself into anything, that is because I no longer feel the need to. All these pent-up rage, whatever you call it, it's basically drifting into the space and becoming one with its end, like a burnt-out candle in an autumn night.
There it stood no longer sensible, and by then my end will be my peace. Or it could be a launching concept of melodrama.