Living on the Edge of Night | Caleb Picone

Staircase. Photo by Luca Bravo on Unsplash

Living on the edge of night

 Seconds pass, shadows creep

Convulsing body on sheets

Shades pulling puppet strings

Desire to cross this forsaken place

Far off redemption seen

Trudging on stone, branches lean

And the path is hiding in disdain

Worthy in any form

Only to godly eyes

To earthly irises I am despised

And fire should envelope

But fire is fuel

And passion grows

Only divine power knows

If fire burning, forward path

In a direction I must choose

Or if it will melt my soul

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