Direction


Precipice,
what a beautiful word
for the edge of something
so treacherous.
With the wind humming your name,
you can't help but lean
forward, looking
for the light below.
What does it feel like to fall?
To fly?
The ground beneath your feet
gives way,
answering the questions
inside of your mind,
showing you
just how long the way down
truly is.

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This Poems Story

This poem was created during a dark night of the soul.