It feels like standing on the edge
of darkness, fear and pain,
It feels like honoring a pledge
of struggling in vain.
It feels like drowning in a sea
of tears and sweat and crud,
It feels like burring the key
of waters turned to mud.
It feels like crows inside your nest
casting the spell of death,
It feels like rising up your chest
before the final breath.
It feels so good to drench it all
in flesh and blood and wine,
As it feels cruel to crash and fall
before the finish line.
And yet it feels like being born
out of a hollow womb,
As if you needed to be torn
to rise up from your tomb.
Musings of Fools 