The End

It is there like a curtain of smoke Stalking, visible and yet invisible. Sometimes, the sound is clear like That of a drop of water in the bathroom. A leaking tape. Even in deep sleep. Each nod draws the body closer to it. Like it is possessed. They think of it And get scared about what is there On the other side. Is it smoky like Here or a stream of clear water? No one has reported yet. Only a guess. A guess like a meteor- bright and ash. If it is like that don't care for it. Someday, the door will be closed For you to this world. But you Are always knocking, you must.