As the maw of madness hungrily awaits,
I ponder on jumping feet first
A recurring nightmare disguised as a dream,
Enticing me with promises too good to be true.
I stand at the precipice,
Shaking my head begrudgingly and back away
Only for tendrils to reach up, grasping at cold feet
I want to be nothing
And for my pointless existence to be forgotten.
If only the numbness would spread
Replacing cowardice for stoic indifference
Jaws clack and saliva splashes onto the floor
Drip, drip, drip, maddening in its rhythm
It hungers and yearns for a taste
Once the precipice cracks, there’s no turning back
Fortitude wanes and fatigue waxes in my eyes
One final glance back, but it’s too late
Today was the day the precipice crumbled away
I am nothing
A nameless face forgotten in its inferiority.
Author’s Words for Thought
“In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.” -Friedrich Nietzsche