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.