Heavy lids lift the weight,
Peer out into the nothing,
No green of grass or blue for sky,
Only grey stains cast over,
The path ledge seems to get smaller,
Forced to balance fear i stumble,
Further to fall than to carry on,
With each shaking delicate step,
A poise i try to maintain,
Should i lose my bearing,
Plummet down past the bed,
Made by hands of lurking gloom,
Drop and never stop forever more,
No, each pace carefully planned,
Pause and catch my breath, Breathe,
And continue uphill,
Now the ledge has crumbled further,
An ashen line now my guide,
Each pallid foot toe to heel,
Arms spread to be my wings,
Maintain the steadiness to persist,
Rags have worn out and shoes left near the bottom,
A rickety frame now pale, skin stripped to a layer,
The things i am gaining from this struggle,
To achieve an equilibrium,
My mind begins to wander to back home,
At the bottom of the mountain,
So sad and full of shame,
The twin cavities begin to leak,
Streaming tears down tissue cheeks,
Beginning to knock me off balance,
What's the problem - why are you crying ?
Nothing, nothing is wrong, i shall ascend.
The pain is getting deeper,
Physical wounds of skin and bone,
Out done by mental torment,
Like the little girl i long to be,
Cry my eyes out till they bleed,
Pale stalks where hands situate,
Begins to resemble the white line,
Withering strands of umber hair,
Pulled out by ravenous winds,
Weary hand till clutching; reality,
One glance is enough to make me see,
Long way to go and she will know,
If i wander beyond this thought,
And like so many times, lead me back,
Never abandon this ruptured shell,
Holding on to the fear; that i won't make it,
And grasping the wish; that i will.
God, i have to pause,
Take a rest and catch my breath,
Crouch to my knees; reduced to grovel,
That this short span of giddiness,
Will cease its course; so i may go,
On my hands; head held up to the starless sky,
Searching for a salvation; caught behind a glimmer,
Nothing for me; what makes me worthy,
Streaming, violent courses of bitter salt,
But these are not my tears; i can\'t feel them,
It is the girl that has followed me; she cries,
Not coping with my limits; pathetic,
To my feet, watching my ankles buckle,
Fall to the floor,
Get Up, Not Yet, Just Another Day,
Crestfallen one, rise and follow the whisper,
Clutch my mirror and balance once more.
