a now unattainable means
of vehemently progressing through the hours
urges me forward
the conjurings of my desperation present
the brume of a hand reaching towards
in a gesture of guidance out of a stifling dark
as I stretch to meet its wispy extremity
in a sudden rush of awareness
I find myself teetering on a precipice
lingering in awe and hesitance
as witness to this vantage and visitant
under the weight of my own volition
or the employment of dysrationalia
I grasp the rocky edge with my bare feet
and lean toward the void
having heard the exhortations of
the hovering council
yet uneager to take any admonition to heart
I stare out into tenebrous possibility
motionless
the potential of such heights
sensed to the pit of my core
affects my stance
I motion backward
wavering in my assurances
panicked in doubt
I turn to face where logic tells me
there is a foothold
I turn
to the absence of air
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