Precipice
I wait on this precipice looming down at my fate. A jagged Niagara daring me to soar with abandonment onto its edges.
The abyss tells me fables, a serenade of its amorous ruse. Crashing waves harmonize the melody that shuffle my steps closer, closer I ebb.
It sounds so beautiful, the peace. To be washed away.
Drowning in my lamentation, I close my eyes and embrace my declivity, because fallen angels don’t fly, and humanity has scorched these wings for the last time.
Copyright © Andreanna Escamilla | Year Posted 2017
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