Sitting on the edge

When sleep is creeping
and all is numbed

Deep wounds are open
that dreams can't mend

My drying tears
cherish any thought
and every memory

My fleyed fingers
turn wisdom
into shields

My tired body
bleeds its ink
to the last drop

Sitting on the edge

When tears are dried
and all blood is drained

Truth rests in verses
on the paper in my hands.