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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1478689
Over the edge lies the valley.


From above
the ocean
cascades down
falls of water
rocks died brown
by tides of mud
and white-gold foam
the sea is draining
into my home.

I'm carved from metal
grey and black
Spires wrap
around my back
a spine of wire
skull of stone
eyes of jade
and sapphire gaze

For here I sit
for here I wait
-fell over the brink
now this is my fate

Upstairs, I'm old
my kin lie retired
replaced by the gold
tidied away
taken apart
or re-molded as art.

But I-
I remain
-My stumble; such gain-
to sit all alone
I could go insane

But that would be silly
I'm hardly a fool
And my thoughts come too slow
(like boulders they tumble)
I haven't the wit
for madness at all

So I'll sit in this canyon
the crack in the crease
the gap twixt the worlds
where wonder's have ceased.

Here, only boulders
nothing but rocks
the water reaches down,
but then it just stops
It never hits bottom
never touches ground
the valley just stretches
round and round

You can't climb at all
to Death you would fall
and yes, here He waits
in the form of black doves
consuming lost loves
an infinite appetite to sate

I could try for the sand
over on the dry side
but the cascades of dust
could choke me in rust
besides I can't abide
the arms of the damned
that would push me away
-or worse, take my hand

This is the Schism
the Gap and the Valley
'tween Dust and Water
desert and sea
here, you'll find me
stuck all alone
a statue and stone
I give to the fates
peerless mandate
do what you will
this giant
sits still.




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