The Edge

Faltering steps to the top
Past rocks and brambles and prickly vine,
Until at last he stood all alone
Staring into the abyss of death

The very picture of despair and ruin
It had been ages since he had smiled
Mired in his own mediocrity
Robbed of every aspiration, every dream
A fate worse than death he had undergone
Starved of love, care and any affection

Alone and friendless as he stood there
A grave temptation bore upon him
To let go would be child's play
A sudden rush into the dark
A moment cowering in pain
And the weight of every burden ever borne
Would never plague him again

As the images of his life flashed past him
He pondered if anyone would even care
Here and there a few copious tears shed
A soulful elegy or even two
On the blank face of a nameless tomb
Even the rocks beneath seemed more alluring

And then when all hope seemed lost
He shied away from his horrible fate
It was fear that stayed his hand
Or maybe a passing thought
For death is more miserable than the meanest life