The Thin Line

I stand on the edge between
The purest dreams and the darkest nightmares.
A path that leads to a dark festering malignancy
That dwells in the lonely places within my soul
A cancer that threatens to swallow my being.
I have heard it’s call, it’s sweet promises.
It beckons me closer to the edge, the thin line
Between the light and the dark that is thick
As a whisper and as frail as a broken promise.
Every day I teeter on the edge of the abyss
Fighting back the desire to be seduced
By the darkness that swells within me.
It’s alive.

Salvation is only one step back, I would
Only need to fall back gracefully into
It’s waiting arms, but I don’t dare.
I know that the only option that
Holds truth is the festering darkness. 
The hard truth of oblivion that does not
Judge, pressure, or put upon the person
Who dares to stare into it.  Salvation
Becomes a lie perpetrated on the weak.
Salvation’s empty promises can’t be real.
They can’t be trusted.

Everyday, with every decision I make, I feel
The strength of the darkness growing.
I feel myself standing on the fragile edge
With my feet dangling half off and a gentle
Wind pushing at the small of my back.
I feel myself push into the darkness just
A little further each day.

Day to day decisions become footsteps
That carry me along the thin line that divides
My mind.  As I walk along it I find myself
Trapped in a dangerous tango on the edge
Between the light and the dark, 
Salvation and damnation,
Life and death.