And thus we find ourselves,
hovering,
on the edge of the world,
lingering on the brink between darkness and light.
And it's here that we share
our sorrows and our thrills,
our dreams and our regrets,
all the while drifting
closer and closer,
'til we breathe the same breath,
think the same thoughts,
before melting as one to the ill-ordained whispers of the wind.
But the wind that blows,
blows in cold with the breaking dawn,
burning away the fevered promises,
blistering the dreams we so briefly dreamt,
reducing our joy to a heap of dry ashes now drifting away in this wind.
...as the voices from the dark side bewitch and enchant.
Gilded sureties flowing from their glib and faithless tongue,
broken words promising to return the heat into our veins
while a nothingness fills our sleepless dreams
in a void of numb surrender.
Yet when we eventually still we'll hear
the forming dewdrops in the silence of the dawn.
And as the first light, with its steadfast warmth
thaws the icy cold that has gripped our hearts in a vice,
defrosting the immobility of our senseless mind,
nudges us to stand up on this fragile ledge
and turn away from the pervading gloom;
towards our choices, emerging, shy as a shimmer,
freeing our spirit, our sight and our soul,
as our shadowy bonds dissolve.
