I Stand at the Edge

A poem that speaks to thoughts of the last breath, and how one emerges from the edge.

I Stand at the Edge

I’ve been over the edge, the convoluted storm,
No chance of salvation, no chance to be reborn.
I walk on a platform and look to the depths.
How would it feel to take a last breath?

My soul battles forth, keeps trudging yon.
The storm will abate, and hope marches on.
The edge of my fate backs away from the depths.
Does reality’s facade really save the last breath?

Wrestling the storm in time I grow strong,
Peering forward parts clouds, brings my joy along.
My life moves onward, though fleeting it seems,
I continue the battle and my last breath is redeemed.