The World Ends Here

The World Ends Here
where the desires
clash, Ebb and cease
and the seductive tendrils of an indefinable realm
possess their slumberers

It ends
at the end of a walkway
narrowed down to a twisted trail
through some darkening woods
where the birds of day fall prey to unceasing night

They pass
Thought, effect, hate, love, and ambition
fade away, into the depths of time
unless preserved by some unerring pen
and the unconcious effort of the masses
whose eyes soak in the lives of others
preserving them

For most
the pen lies still
and whispers of lives are carried
by memory and spoken words until
the whispers fade and die for lack of love and clarity

How then
do meaning and purpose hold fast to their definitions
If all falls, decays and crumbles?

Silence.
Silence holds them fast.
An invisible, impenetrable riddle.