Standing on the edge
Looking out into the abyss.
The edge of my mind
And the edge of ethereal longing.

I stand on a crumbling tower.
The bricks are my sanity
And the mortar is made of dreams.
See how it turns to dust,
For it is nothing made real.
Far below, a sea of whispers
Holds echoes of who I used to be.
Remember me?
No, neither do I.
The sighs call me.

If I fall, what will I become?
I don't want to be
Merely a forgotten voice,
A lonely cry in the dusk.
If I fall,
Who will remember?

The wind prances, laughing,
And tries to take my hands,
It wants to lead me to the whispering ocean.
As the stones of my sanity
Crumble, and echoes cry around me
I cannot decide
If I should stand or fall.
I don't even know if
It is truly my decision.

Nothing is certain
In the face of my
Ethereal longing.
Not even the once absolute why.
Why am I left alone
On the tower of insanity,
Why do I long for
Everything and nothing.

So I stand.
Neither here nor there.
Not dead and
Definitely not alive.
Rivers of ghostly blood
Flow in place
Of tears, staining my eyes.
Nothing flows through my veins,
Not anymore.

Uncertainty is my
Saving grace and
My condemning curse.
Contradictions kill my soul
As it is eternally reborn in
Cleansing bloody tears.
I need an end.

Someone save me from
Heavenly grace
And forgotten whispers,
Ethereal longing
And dancing wind.
Salvation lies in death
Or redemption.
Though I do not know
Which to chose.

Please,
Someone,
Chose my fate.
End the nightmare of
The blessed of heaven,
And cursed of hell.