---
title: At the End of All Things
tags: writing, short, love, reflection
---
We wrote songs.
We crafted stories to express it.
From the heartbreaking to the inspiring.
We yearned for it.
Every last one of us.
Or, we thought we did.
Few ever learned its true nature.
Fewer, if any, had it in themselves to wholeheartedly feel or give.
We desired... control.
To compel
others
to fit our own ideas of
"good"
and the way people
"should" be.
Blinded by
arrogant
self-righteousness,
driven by
selfish
desire.
We justified our
judgments,
hatreds, and
manipulations
while despising them in others.
Every
last
one
of
us.
And we called it
**love**.
{%hackmd @shitchell/poetry-theme %}
<!--
The songs we wrote, the tales we told
Could break your heart or make it glow.
For it we yearned, _ _ and fought
Each last of us, or so we thought
Its true nature few had beheld,
Fewer still wholeheartedly held.
In bitter truth, we longed for control.
-->