On the Edge


On the Edge

poised for the moment
on the edge of humanity
a tiptoe through a kind moral
a fall from the depth of disgrace
turning to lucidly look back
lost in a syrup of decay
the deepest beauty too far
to fly to on wings of despair
destruction etched in the brim
aching to arch away freely
spiraling inward visibly
untwisted to the untrained eye
drawn to folding on the fringe
a society of unkind amity
mercy a mild sufferance
blinded by colors of greed
a sorrowful stock of flesh
in a race to outrun transience
rivaling an ephemeral
waste of the dawn

3 thoughts on “On the Edge

  1. This was thick, Shards! So well composed.
    I wonder if your cynicism sounds sweeter because you write sweet things a lot and you have hence known to paint a sharper contrast, or because I am more used to expecting sweet things from you.
    But, I tell you, I love this picture you have given of what appears to be the actual state of humanity.

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