Precipice

Standing between the ends of the world

I stand and stare into the night

and whirling winds with hate filled screams

I feel the burning icy wrath

the sky a sea of inky streams

the only light shines far behind

lost in what was once ahead

my soul stands lonely on the edge

against the wailing of the dead

I will not turn, nor cast my head down

nor stain the ground with drops of sadness

the oncoming storm may break the trees

and cast waves upon rocks to cut with madness

It may tear the ground and leave it scarred

but what has always been, will always be

no matter how bloodied, beaten or charred

As sure as dawn will split the dark

despite the hours of endless shroud

and the swelling of clouds overhead 

and cracks of lightning and thunder loud

I shall not despair, nor curse the wind

or throw frustration at the sky

nor repent for how I've sinned

For just as there was light before

a golden flood shall wash the world

free from pain and the shrieking dark

where love like roses shall be unfurled

and where I stood before against the storm

Soul battered, will all but broken

I will cast my weary eyes upon

the new gold age, reawoken

Author's Note

Slightly inspired by the poem "Invictus"