Precipice
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I wrote the following poem in remembrance of my deceased younger brother, Edwin Charles Etgen, who lost the light and never found it again.
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A precipice
into an even darker abyss
that everyone seems to know
yet everyone seems to hope
there is no such place.
We all deny the place we know,
for it is the same place we go
where it is so dark and cold
and choking, smothering out the light.
Any warmth that we may hold
any light that had a glow
now seems to disappear below
a hellish cliff to a hellish hole.
Dare we peak over the edge
to see where all this could end?
A simple breath, a gasping cry,
a night that blots out your sight
and you are left blind;
reaching, grasping, fighting
gasping for the right to breathe,
searching for a light to see.
Panic sets within your bones
piercing them, you are still as stone
at this precipice you are not alone,
but there is not one hand to hold.
No eye to see or seek your face
with no lips to form your name.
There is only dark and shame.
Forget me not, for there I go,
to the hellish hole below.
I could grip on if I dared,
if there was just one soul that cared
to reach down in the dark,
to grip my hand and touch my heart
and should I see that face I know-
that is where my soul could go.
A dark ledge, a precipice
leading to a dark abyss
it doesn't have to be like this.
if I could find the light again.
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2024
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