Scribbler Of Verses Poet I do not know?

The False Dichotomy of My Descentt

The False Dichotomy of My 
Descent...



Falling,
beyond the precipice,
into this gaping chasm. 



Numbness ensues,

whirling emptiness,

swirling around and around,

in the recesses of my mind,

as it plummets,

in silent freefall.



My choices are stark,

hit rock bottom,
eyes open,

splitting into fragments,

left strewn across the canvas of 
loss. 



Or,

shutting my eyes,

descending into oblivion,

exhaling as the valley of sorrow 
reaches up,

claiming me as its own.



But,

I choose to glide,

floating on thermals of hope,

settling deep in the bowels,

of this desolate grave,

to begin anew,

free from the fiction of truth,

to live, to love, once more,

no longer an accomplice,

and never again, a slave.

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Charmaine Chircop April 6, 2013 at 7:19 AM to be free from the fiction of truth-powerful verse....and profound poem.Its never too late to make the life we want..and if we cant live it at least we can write about it ir dream of it.We all have our story indeed.This gem goes to my favs. Scribbler Of Verses April 6, 2013 at 9:01 AM Thank you, dear Charma! You are kind and generous, and I wish you peace, health and happiness