Touch Of Death

The sky is waking, sinking, breathing
Furious winds churn through ragged branches
Tearing away death and coldness
Gripping at my throat, torturing my words
My hands clammy with a cold irreversible sweat
Sways me to a darkness yet unknown
Fighting my eyes to look past the black
To a scorching, blinding headache of a light
Protruding through a small hole, growing
As if I am moving closer to an endless edge
My toes settling in at the edge of the crack
dug into the earth, separating life with death
And this is where decisions are made..
Is it life or is it death?