Before present, I use to feel like morning dew;

Calm and Central, Controlled and Stable.
Yet, no amount of calm could stop the great fall.
And fell it did; yes, slipping downwards.

Full hands becoming empty, numbers start decreasing, sleep lessening.
Adhesion could not save the dew, it kept slipping.

Now at the edge; oh, that amassed abyss reflecting.

Only fingertips hold on now; only adhesion holds on now.