how does a good poem end?

i have not seen them do
much as i have
tried, to capture a fragrant petal
cried of loss
in my hands, stained a page
in my book, unknown words
yearned, to be spoken forever
faded, now...

i have seen them, cradled
half remembered dreams, only
to wake from a slumber
yet to start, of longing drenched
with the stench of truths,
of  truths revealed with
promises that pierced hope,
belittled, lies

you write one with de-thorned brilliance
paving the path to morrows
where the sun doesnt burn
and waters wont drown

i have gone
halfway, perhaps, scared
of the light i see far down, as
it blinds, almost, while the music
thumps deafeningly, stifled breath
yearning freedom

would you stay? keep hold of faith
for me, to the end
show me why...tell me?
how good a poem ends
like this one
you have started
writing, now..