I'm really happy with all of the nice reviews and so I decided I would finish this story
Enjoy

(Disclaimer) I do not own the End Poem Julian Gough does.

EPOV

"Endelia, you look so beautiful" my father said holding out his arm

"thanks daddy" I said taking his arm,

I couldn't take my mind off Steve

"i'm sorry" I whispered,

my father could see the sadness in my eyes and sighed "i'm sorry too" he said patting my shoulder

"about what?" I asked

"about you being unhappy" he replied

I looked at him and smiled "there isn't anything you can do"
we walked down the isle and I saw my mom and sisters on the verge of tears,
I saw my uncle Notch who agreed to wed me and Blaze,
and I saw my future,
being a housewife in the neather with Blaze bossing me around all the time

I was scared.

"we gather here today to unite this man and this woman in holy matchremony" Notch said I wanted to be in the world with Steve but I was stuck in the chapel with Blaze I never said it but i knew it in my heart,
"if anyone has a reason why these two should not be wed speak now or forever hold your peace" Notch said

The words flew out of my mouth without of my mouth "I love Steve"

"what?" Blaze said tightening his grip on my hand

"i'm sorry Blaze but I don't love you and I never will" I said removing my hand

"my heart belongs to Steve "
I turned around but Blaze grabbed my arm

"your not getting away from me" he said

I screamed as he burned my arm

"what did you do?" my father said pushing Blaze away from me

"he burned her" Zombelle said

"get him!" my sisters yelled as they tackled him

but then I had a vision,

I saw Steve digging a hole strait down with full diamond armor and a diamond sword he was going after The Ender Dragon

"I have to go" I said "I need to stop Steve"

I teleported to The End and saw that steve had already destroyed all the towers and was trying to hit the dragon

"Steve stop!" I yelled but he didn't hear me I was something yellow fly by and saw Steve fall to the ground Blaze was trying to kill Steve,

Steve was hitting the dragon and dodging Blaze but Blaze hit him and Steve fell "NO!" I screamed running over to Steve

"I'm sorry Endelia" he said

"don't be" I replied

"no, I should have told you that-" he said taking a small breath

"that what?" I asked

"that I-" he closed his eyes and didn't finish

"no" I whispered "don't leave me"
"your mine now" Blaze said I saw that the dragon was weak one more hit from the sword whould have done it

I grabbed the sword and stood up

"what are you doing?" Blaze asked

"something I should have done a long time ago" I replied walking to the middle of The End

"here Ender, Here boy" I called Ender turned around and flew torwards me

"Endelia stop!" Blaze called I knew what would happen but I didn't care,
a world without Steve wasn't a world I wanted to live in,

Ender was a few blocks away from me "i'm sorry" I whispered and looked away and before I knew it Ender was turning into a speck of light just like I was,
I layed down on the ground and waited to disappear I got really tired and fell asleep.

SPOV

woke up and saw Endelia with my sword she looked away and hit her dragon it started glowing and disappering and Endelia was on the ground,

"Endelia, are you ok?" I asked running over to her but she was asleep,
her eyes shot open and radiated a purple light she started to float up and her purple hair started turning brown her clothes changed too and soon she floated back to the ground she wasn't Endelia anymore she was Elle.

EPOV

I woke up to someone calling my name,

"Elle" I heard

I opened my eyes and saw that Steve was looking at me with a worried look in his eyes

"your awake" he smiled

"your ok" I said hugging him

"yea and so are you" he said

"but I don't understand I was suppost to turn into a speck of light" I said looking at my hands

"Blaze made that up, your now a normal player" he said helping me up

"I-I am?" I asked looking at myself

"yes and now we can be together" he said

"and we will be together" I said

"Elle I-"
"Steve I-"
"love you" we both said We kissed and I felt a happieness I hadn't felt in years

1 month later

"do you Steve take End- I mean Elle to be your wife?" Notch asked

"I do"
"and Elle do you take Steve to be your husband?" Notch asked

"I do"
"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride"
we kissed and everyone clapped I laughed and we walked out of the chapel together

"oh wait" I said I turned and through the bouquet which led to a big fight between my sisters

"good luck Elle and remember well always be there for you" my mother said

"I love you" I called me and Steve stepped into the minecart and rode off,
and as I rested my head of Steve's shoulder and fell asleep and I dreamed a strange dream, all I saw was black but I heard voices.

I see the player you mean.

Elle?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

What did this player dream?

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the ! $#&%#%, and created a $^$%&^%#$ for ^% #&UT$$#, in the #$# &*^%$.

It cannot read that thought. no. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

It reads our thoughts.

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely $# %$ $ and $#$%#^$, I wish to tell them that they are T$^F$#%$ in the $$#F$%^. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

And yet they play the game.

But it would be so easy to tell them...

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

I will not tell the player how to live.

The player is growing restless.

I will tell the player a story.

But not the truth.

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.

Give it a body, again.

Yes. Player...

Use its name.

Elle. Player of games.

Good.

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a player.

The player was you, Elle .

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

Let's go back.

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

Let's go further back.

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".

Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".

Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.

You are the player, reading words...

Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive

You. You. You are alive.

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better.

And the player was the universe.

And the player was love.

You are the player.

Wake up.

"Elle?" Steve said shaking me awake,

"hmm?" I relied getting up,

"we're here" he said helping me out of the minecart,

I looked up and I saw the hut,

"it's nothing much but..." he said walking over to it,

"no, it's perfect" I smiled

"lets go inside" he said,

I heard a noise behind me and smiled

"just give me a second" I said,

he walked into the hut and I turned, walked through a couple of tree and there I saw an Enderman,

I nodded my head torwards him and he nodded back "i'm glad your finally happy princess" he said "me too" I replied looking and my new house.

I now know that minecraft doesn't have an ending

only a begining.