Life's Lullaby

The eternal slumber.

The final rest.

The 'blissful' sleep.

There is no escape.

There is no delaying.

There is no choice.

Everypony must comply.

No one is out of its grasp.

Not even the ones we call our rulers.

Their time will come.

Everypony's song must end.

And I...

I am the musican.

The one that makes the songs.

The one that ends them.

Everypony's song must end.

I must end everypony's song.

Even those who are like me.

The ones who make the songs.

And the ones that end them too.

But... they don't understand how to

end a pony's song.

I must teach them.

Everypony's song must end.

I end everypony's song.

My first student in this art:

Vinyl Scratch.

A very talented mare.

So energetic...

Lively...

Full of life..

However... she must learn.

Learn how to end a ponies song.

I will be her teacher.

She will be the student.

She will resist...

But I will tell her there is no reason to...

For everpony's song must end...

And I must end everypony's song.

She will lay before me, ready for her lesson.

Waiting for me to teach her.

To teach her this art.

She will cry.

She will beg not to be taught.

She will beg not for her song to end.

Odd behavior, I say.

She is learning such an important art.

An art that everypony should know.

An art that everypony should practice.

Despite this strange behavior, I will teach her.

I must teach her.

I must educate her.

It is my sworn duty as her teacher.

She will learn.

She does not know it yet, but she will grateful.

"Thank you, Miss Octavia." she will say.

"Thank you, for teaching me. I am forever in your debt."

She will thank me.

Thank me for ending her song.

Because then, she will realize;

Everypony's song must end.

And we must end everypony's song.

My bow.

It is the player of all songs.

It is the ender of all songs.

I will tell this to her.

She wont understand why I have done so.

I will show her why.

I will show her how it ends songs.

I will show her how it will end hers.

Her eyes will widen when they lay upon the silver... cold... metal edge.

The instrument that ends songs.

The instument I will use to end her song.

She will give me a fearful look.

And then beg me... one last time.

Not to teach her.

To let her song continue.

Poor, silly mare.

She still doesn't get it.

I will tell her this.

Then I would explain to this poor,

misguided mare that;

Her song,

Has gone on long enough.

Long enough to destroy my life.

Long enough to destroy my career as a musician.

Long enough to create my new career.

She will beg for forgivness.

Tell me she didn't mean it.

But it's too late now.

She must be taught.

My old life is over.

And my new life is about to begin.

Just... one stroke of my bow...

One stroke is all it will take.

And her song...

Will.

End.

I must end her song.

I must teach her what it is to be a... true... musician.

Everypony's song must end.

And I must end everypony's song.

...

...

...

...

...

...

Her song...

Has...

Ended.

And what an ending it was.

My bow stroking so rymythically.

Ending her song so quick.

So... beautifully.

What a masterpeice her song was.

And I was honored to have ended it,

And to teach her the art.

And now...

Well...

The once energetic Vinyl Scratch,

never seeming to calm down,

who had once been spewing out new songs non-stop...

Finally rests.

I have done my duty.

And my duty is done.

Everypony's song must end.

And I must.

End.

Everypony's.

Song.