It is now the beginning of the end,
A finish that I have known for so long.
There is no reason, only rimes which lend
And mend our existence, 'though we are wronged.
This is not the first time, but 'tis the last,
For my ends are always new beginnings;
And only I can ever know my whys,
Wherefores and withers, and even why nots?
She has taught nothing but never denied
And bemoans that I am one-eyed, I think.
Altruistically, she hasn't lied,
Nor told truth, and like a stone does sink.