The Ledge

I fell asleep it was day icy and grey bewildered on a ledge protruding from the rock no sign of mountain top darkness round about the abyss down below deep and hot. Leaning on the savage rock menacing tongue and eyes on the three by five my wife who had earlier died, in the bottomless fiery pit both careful not to slip. Vapors slowly rising, filling throat and eyes dormant spite rising smoke from hatred fire torch devouring us dry drunk for eternity on dripping blood from gnawed flesh on the ledge in the throat of hell.