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.
