Everything has the beginning, also the end

Everything has the beginning, also the end.
At first I didn’t want to see the finish line…at first.
Tonight the storm of words she didn’t write, but meant
Is in our little dreamy park…it’s cursed.
 
The paths we’ve created are flying away
Like thousands of birds of the memory melodies.
Their home is destroyed, disappeared in a day.
It’s been done without warning with ease.
 
I am sitting with friends in the corner.
They are homeless and cold, they are crying.
Somebody’s knocking at my door…it’s the coroner
Who will take these dead birds and me dying.