Welcome to the end
the perfect form
destructive wreath
upon the lands sharp pointy teeth
where perfect lines and little dreams
huddle cold
they've given up
no longer warm
they've gone too long
and had to leave

Welcome to the end
the perfect sound
a night alone
it swoops to bite and break and preach
when little horrors melt their dreams
in chilled light
they wait
no longer perfect
their sanctuary breached
they had to flee

Welcome to the end
the perfect sight
a forever line
circled fine
the cinnamon tree with crimson leaves
and ugly branches ever black
never wait
it's gone too long
with reddish tint
perfect to hide
the Scared Little Child within