The precipice, that heart-strung edge
Feet resting on the threshold
The fabled point of no return
Time stops and slows; I’m getting old
Waiting for my heart to call
That call to make me spurn the edge
For into darkness I do release
The thorns and thickets of the hedge
But should I not be pricked by
The disillusionment of fate
In the unrest of the shadows
A wond’rous light does sure await
And so I stand upon the precipice
Unaware where my feet shall find an end
But I’ve been too long; I start to slip
Nature’s gravity begs that I descend.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 11:14 AM UTC
The precipice, that heart-strung edge
Feet resting on the threshold
The fabled point of no return
Time stops and slows; I’m getting old
Waiting for my heart to call
That call to make me spurn the edge
For into darkness I do release
The thorns and thickets of the hedge
But should I not be pricked by
The disillusionment of fate
In the unrest of the shadows
A wond’rous light does sure await
And so I stand upon the precipice
Unaware where my feet shall find an end
But I’ve been too long; I start to slip
Nature’s gravity begs that I descend.