Between

there are faces, between the hours
the moments spent here, clinging to the truth of a day
the seconds before, life slips away
from the fingers, the clutch, grasped tight
as the heart races, beats, fast, drawn, death is near
in the edge, by the precipice of the ledge
feet, slipping, the will, still standing, in the blood, the sweat
tears, from the eyes, a pleading no longer in the desire
for life, but a quick end, by silence, in the fall
before the weight carries you away, into an endless day
between the horns of memory, and the fascination of dream
let your body drop quickly,as these thoughts hold you tight
your fingers, release, your body in full flight
and there is no other sound, no sight on your way down
as world, waits, listens, for your body, to hit the cold hard ground