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Abyss Above the Vale
High in the Eyrie, stone cold and stark,
Where stars peer in and walls leave a mark,
The sky is a floor and the wind is a blade,
And the edge is a whisper where brave men fade.
The stone is slanted, the door left wide,
So night may beckon and pride may slide.
Here justice hangs by a falcon’s cry,
In a cell where the floor meets the open sky.
But gaze too long at the void below,
Where clouds swirl soft and shadows grow,
And Nietzsche’s warning starts to sear—
The abyss above begins to leer.
It sees you crumble, stripped and bare,
A soul unstitched by frost and air.
What stares from down may dwell within,
And pull you out with quiet sin.
So watch your thoughts and hold your breath—
For the sky may sentence more than death.
In silence vast and justice thin,
The fall begins not out—but in.
Copyright ©
Dufflite Xetaw
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