Walking A Sword On The Edge Of The Abyss
Poem By Mark Anderson
The straight and narrow is no easy path,
The road cuts and is difficult to balance.
At the beginning there is no purpose to travel,
Only our faith and courage for guidance.
The Abyss beckons us to enter,
With familiar faces and lies of so-called friends.
They call because they need assurance,
They care not to go alone to this end.
Like Odysseus bound to his ship,
The daughters of Melpomene making the sirens call,
We hear the voices temp us,
Only our character can prevent our fall.
Within the Abyss lurks a slow death,
It envelops with each and every day.
Masking reality to suit its own means,
Like a fog that inhibits finding our way.
The sword curves on toward infinite,
It only exists in the pursuit of perfection.
At the tip of the sword is energy,
A door to our destiny and life's creation.