Does this door swing backward

into a pain swampland?

Or does it swing forward

into fields ripe with hope?

I stand fixed on the precipice

weary and weighted

with unfamiliar power.

My scythe is both weapon

and harvester.

I lay it down in the night

praying an answer

will split the darkness

like the rising sun.


2 thoughts on “Precipice

    • Thank you Rebecca! Such kind comments. You are the first to nominate me for an award! I will think about whether I choose to accept awards or not. But I very much appreciate your nomination. On my way right now to check out your link.

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