The Edge

Those eyes trapped between thick lines of kohl, frigidly stare But yet glued to the screen. Those eyes tire with the glare But are possessed by a power unseen. A hundred emoticons fast as a pulse Yet none stir her expression less face, Nor, was there a moment of impulse As she typed with a practiced pace. She did not not notice as a breeze blew her curls, Nor when the screen blurred her eyes, She was busy abbreviating her words Finding solace in a world of lies. He painted a rosy escape, dragging her to the edge, The edge of an abyss, an abyss of his love. His words lifted her, prepared to fledge Far away from the chaos above. The breeze failed to stir a single ripple in the abyss She dreamt of gliding through it Soaking in its bliss; For as long as fate would permit. She waited on that very edge, where she was told to wait The edge, where her heart beats too fast. She curls her toe, undaunted by fate His love, she knew, would have it recast.