Teetering on the just instant of being and being no more
Right before falling into oblivion, arms flailing to-wards the fleeing sky
You find yourself finally understanding why...
Wind passes feebly with a force not great enough to save, but There where living has not yet been lost to the chanced instant, such a wind could exert enough force to take your life.
Now it holds the role of a weak bystander, a witness to your final fall.
A bystander to your sudden realizations
Accompanied by the sureness of the last instant of forever
No stutter, no doubt;
This, my friend, is it.
This has always been it; and that is why
It is all it can be! Which IS, also making it the why...
This is it.
You close your eyes and smile, an answer sublime,
without a reason, but being reasonable only through the fact that it is.
The final instant that robs your breath is the why to Now and Then.
This instant where all is lost is why there is something to be lost,
But something to have held.
The wind here is feeble, like the ties to a life that is on the ledge,
a ledge you stare up at... realizations making you smile;
That ledge, it is gone,
and you will never set foot there again.
That is why, Why you fall, and why you stood.
This is now, then forever, The End!
The instants ore ending, the moments being thrown away,
You are falling into nothing,
which is! Simply because we have made it that way.
Will you dance again upon the Earth, upon that ledge?
Or would you rather fly into something that is nothing, but is why...
instead?
