Glory Of The End

By Ujita Brahma

Glory tingled inside of me

At the thought of the end—

How beautiful the sight would be:

Everyone gathering,

Only for me.

I’d be lying, but no soul,

And they’d whisper low,

“Why did it happen?”

Maybe they didn’t hear—

But I wrote it all so clear,

Of the glorious end that called.

Being seen was all I craved.

If this is what it takes to be saved,

Then maybe the end is glorious.

I walked these grounds with whispered screams,

From ear to ear,

But no one dreamed

To stop or turn or truly hear.

So maybe, yes—

The glorious end it is:

My loudest scream,

At last

Bringing everyone

To me.

By Ujita Brahma