NIS (4 September 1915 - 14 April 2005 / Youngstown, Ohio)

The Grand Abyss

Finally now, we see below us
The abyss over which we have traveled
All these years the whisper- thin
Web of our imagining
Between us and destruction,
Mere shreds of no meaning

Wondering with increasing fascination
What's down there when we fall?
As we all must fall - and land
Is it more of the same - but harsher?
Oblivion with no dreams of enrapture

To the last measure the mind
Spins out it's boundless fancy
And though we say cease it does not cease
Envisions only broken threads
Where the others fell through
The silence of the air
With no breath of a whisper

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