Bitter sorrow is the taste on my tongue,

Strong southries caress my cheek.

Way up here I can reach the marshmallow clouds,

Far below the sea hurls itself angrily against the steel pillars.

 

Up here I can see everything, feel everything and think everything,

The scarlet spray of his blood splatters across my mind,

A deep shudder reveberates down my spine,

Like the impact I felt from driving the hammer in his skull.

 

Again the wind strokes me, taunts me, welcomes me into it’s open arms,

I can sense the devious flash in it’s movements,

Still I find myself standing on the edge, it’s arms waiting…

Waiting to let me slip into the turmoil beast bellowing below.

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