With the words of hell
stuck on the edge
a downward spiral
blade's edge precipice
looking down
to where it all began
the blood-stained waters
he once swam
his feet split open
his soul cut twain
the escapeless nightmare
mocking disdain
Looking up
it's all the same
an endless razor
and no escape
no lavish ladders
no open doors
no beaten paths
or sunbaked roads
just old marks
from where he stood
bled
and fell before
He's tired now
ages unkind
thinks of something
become nothing
in his mind
a ticket here
a spot to sleep there
it's all the same
pointless anywhere
He closes his eyes
can't remember old dreams
though he tries
He tilts off the edge
and falls
He longs to rest
from the pains
out and in
as living has become
day of waiting
for it to end
in the place it begins
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