The Tightrope

The barbed tightrope sways menacingly The imperceptible border separating A chaotic world from Inevitable peaceful sleep She runs without trepidation Bloodied, stained and scarred bare feet Immune to the flesh eating jagged edges Slivers of her soul left at every piercing blade Leaps powered by her blatant disregard for life Unfazed by her own inflicted sway Thoughtless to the potential plummeting Life or death Escaping manic voices Echoing from the depths of A lunatic mind A despairing heart A tragedy riddled soul Wisps of hope begin to snake beside her An alluring path A mirage of dreams Stillness overwhelms Baited breath Mesmerizing foolish belief Past lessons forgot Temptation triumphing Over resistant faith Lured into the pretense Arms reach out in desperation Fingertips barely grasping the fast fading hope Mad laughter echoing from the mouths of the illusionists The onward chase of hope as it turns to dust Ripples of violent swaying beneath her feet Voices encircling A sprint driven by The divine hunger for the seemingly last remnants of happiness Leaping into nothingness Delusional enlightened hope Only a mirror of her heart’s desires A mere reflection of her pleading tears Misjudgment Condemnation Failure Sentenced And with flailing arms she falls The tightrope gone forever.