Sight at the Edge

Like the hunted, I sprinted to the edge of the cliff

To be subdued by my demons with joyous relief,

While the wolves are clung to my heels, salivating

At the inkling that they will bury their fangs 

Into my hollow struggle, surrounding me in the shadow,

Growling as they solicit my forfeit to their rules, 

To their own ways, desperately trying to drag me backwards 

Into what you were molding, the gallant tourist 

Showing off the coruscant of what would be left behind, 

Brewing the guilt of Macbeth, clouding my sight, 

But there are thirteen reasons why I find the cliff

At this moment, standing below it all, a stampede 

To let go, be far from the devil living beside me, 

I’m ready for truth, past these gates, which I hold tight fisted, 

Leaving its mark upon my arrival, reminding me 

One last time, what I’ll abandon once I cross the threshold, 

Back turned towards the lightning strikes, flashing

Against the stained rocks, nestled in the destination, 

It’s been a long journey to this entrance, to my judgment, 

Even with the pack growing inside the tall gates, 

I am here, at the precipice swallowing the sight ahead, 

Sinking into it and accepting fate of my own story

That is coming to its end, after all endured, 

Peace has come unto me, while wolves lose the scent. 

How many demons follow you up the hill? 

Complications will always be apart of life; 

Sickness, depression and hurt shadows your steps, 

Find the peace in the experience of sight.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s