What makes this the end
More than any time before?
The bitterness I felt for you
Resentment and much more?
Contempt for all your lies, disguised
As half-truths, tales and bends
The way you’ve twisted all my words
Does not make this the end.
It’s not the way you looked at me
When you turned and said goodbye
Or the fire in my soul
That torched my heart inside.
No, the end is not made by fire
It is not that device
The end is final now because
I’m able to be nice.
The opposite of love’s not hate
Or wrath or e’en contempt.
The end of love comes by fuel’s
Destruction when the ember’s spent.
You offer heat and swift rebuke
You come wanting to fight
But I have no more heart to burn.
All that’s left is ice.