Me.
The Eternal Struggle.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The eternal struggle.
Where even in the hours of sleep, our fists fly through the air, slamming hard against the soft, rosy cheeks we once had. And we wake from our dreams with our bodies drenched in sweat, to find none but ourselves - alone, lying on the floor, our eyes fixed on the barren ceiling above us. Though now back to reality, our bodies are without energy.
Our eyes are bloodshot red.
Our fists are clenched.
And we are bleeding. Profusely.
Though we lie on safe ground, our minds are perched on the very edge of a chasm, so quietly screaming at us to take that one step forward, and plunge to what would most certainly be our end. We cry. We assure ourselves that we still have a grasp on ourselves, that we are capable of restraint. But the almost unseen movement of our feet - forward - contradicts everything we think we are.
Trip. Fall. Fall! Break every bone in our bodies, for there is no more pain. Cover the land in our flesh and pray our blood serves the thirsty, wait for the vultures to peck at the remains of our existence.
And when, wake up.
No, it hasn't ended. No, it didn't just begin.
We're still there. On that edge.
It'll happen. Soon enough.
Given a certain level of thought byAdam Dewind at 5:56 PM