--- 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. -->