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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1248931
Hope this makes you think.....
I stand on the vast precipice of my world.
The dark, cold clouds begin their slow decent on my thoughts. I feel my bones grow chill and numb.

I understand that it is necessary for me to do this. I know deep inside that the dawn is only a few hours away. But I grow fearful of the dark.
For it is always darkest before dawn.
I look around me and the chaos begins to take its toll. I see my friends wither under
the strain of the dark cold.

I shudder.

I finally begin to understand that the crutch I use is no longer there. My past mistakes begin to hold sway in my present thoughts. I falter, fall, and pick myself back up. I understand that we should not concentrate on the reason for the fall, but the reason we stand back up. Why after so much crumbles and evaporates, we still find our feet?

Motion captures my gaze.
I see a tiny, broken ballerina laying on the ground. I kick her aside and begin my decent into the vast Necessary.
The rain cascades around me, in a way of preventing my perilous journey. It knows something I have miscalculated.

While pondering my current awkward position, I lose feeling in my heart and hands and
s l o w l y
begin falling. My hands clutch and grasp at the harsh and realistic metaphorical cliff.
I shudder.
My soul cries out in pain as I hit the Bottom.

ROCK BOTTOM
"This is as low as this goes, so I might as well start the climb back up." I tell myself. Then I see it. I stand not on rock bottom but another cliff. There is more to fall!
Common sense tells us not to tempt the Fates wrath, and climb back up. No. I have to see what this bottom consists of.

I fall, and fall and fall and fall. Days of falling. Days of agonizing pain and utter loss.
After many many many seemingly tragic falls, I pick my self up, and instead of continuing the fall, I look up.
What a glorious sight it is!! Colors, and warmth, and..... and..... HOPE!
To hell with this never ending pitfall.

I climbed, and climbed and climbed. The top was not as far as it had seemed. I Shout in ecstasy and excitement. I need not to fall anymore!
I look to the palled faces of the damned all around me, and break my chains of never ending contriteness.

I do not shudder, I bask in the glory of tomorrows rising sun.
The rising sun of tomorrow holds both hope and despair.
It all depends on Perspective.
© Copyright 2007 BonTico (chachi2049 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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