The edge of the abyss stands
Silently before me in the dark.
Every ounce of who I am,
What I dreamed for and
Broke mind and body towards
Is now almost within my grasp.
I stammer and delay.
Somehow unable or unwilling
To reach out and grasp
That which I have so longed for.
What is wrong with me?
Over a decade spent in the silent dark,
And here I am on the freezing edge of sunlight,
Unable to step across the line into the warmth.
My hands sweat with the
Anticipation of controlling something
In this realm of broken dreams and
My legs shake with the adrenalin rush
Of leaping forward to seize what is rightfully mine.
Perhaps I dream too big?
Perhaps this is all just some cruel trick
Designed to torment me yet again,
Screaming out my worthlessness and fail.
And so I wait…
For a signal, a sign.
Some indication that this is the right thing to do.
Some way of knowing it is all not just some
Cruel, Cruel masquerade.