deepundergroundpoetry.com

Equilibrada


atop this wicked peak,
trembling legs stand firm ~
inured to the constant
restlessness for action;
focus becomes instinct,
the goal clear and precise

decision to move
from one space to another
has always been territory
claimed for the living;
it often feels I’ve been dead
for far too long to remember
how to breathe deeply enough
to sustain my existence

one foot steadfastly engaged
in dramatic battle
with self-destruction,
the other poised to run
~ afraid of its own shadow ~
greedy for anything
resembling safety

down these slippery slopes,
inky darkness seeps
into midnight forests;
pitched paths overgrown
and unsure
weaving treacherously
through dead roots,
husked timber sown with seeds
of pain and regret
covered in love’s gnarled vines,
withered to gray
while hiding from the sun

ghosts roam the decline,
wandering restlessly
in winter’s limbo-mist;
wailing and waiting,
aching and mourning
in sanguine symphony
as dancing dysfunctions
eager for a misplaced step,
grind sticks and stones
just in case today is the day
my balance falters  
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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