The edge of a mere existence

The edge of a mere existence,
upon whose edge that I am perched.
Paused there on the brink of death,
who from the shadows lurched.

And the pangs of years long past me now,
with the twinges of regret.
And an everlasting memory,
that won’t let me forget.

That I am stumbling along in blindness,
through ignorance’s dreaded bliss.
Where knowledge’s light is distant,
with a slightly starboard list

And the tireless efforts brought forth,
whose matter it did not make.
And the times I could, I understood,
just what I did forsake.