we have all thought about it, wanted it, graved it, slept with it,

i was always told to start a story, is the beginning, mine is on cliff's edge,

i'm dangle from the roaring fire's as my insanity is marked in this world, my mind has been there, when i have chased glory, with delight, it has been my walk, as i some time's begin at the end, of a rope,

hanging by a thread, my sane mind contemplates, the drastic measure's of myself, it is corner's and stair's i hide in, darkness is my shield, steering me straight into myself, as the edge of my cliff look's inviting,

it's insanity is the driving force of my rage, it balance's me, just enough, flipping a coin as it say's head's or tails, pick a side, it's whispering nag , all you need is a hand,


but as i look acrossfrom one point, i see nothing, but a pit that never end's, dragging me, forcing me in, it's hole goes on, whispering my name, letting me hear voice's from my past, the live's of love one's lost, and loved, knowing my weak self, it is the point that hold's me suspending me,


balance pushes me back saying not this time, maybe later,