Poetry

I look down over the rock-side drop
I feel like God, over looking over a city
I slip back to reality
It's not what it's lived up to be
I fear, weak, my knees do shake
I set myself next to her
I die to place her hand in mine
It's not what it's lived up to be
I have spent passing days by night
I use her glow, as I would abide
I wait and wait, I'm hesitant
It's not
I hurt to help through
I still smile, and hold the moment still
I die to place her hand in mine
It's just not...

...fair like a madien in a midnight dream
or the tale of two lovers that makes you cry and weep
or actual events that make, take, and break
springing towards the water, when you know it isn't safe