looking over the edge…

I have been to the ends of the Earth
And looked over the edge
There was darkness the depth of which
Took away my breath and left me speechless
Come away from there you cried
But the pull was too great
The drop too enticing
The thrill seeking adrenaline junkie
Cliff jumping euphoria was too appealing
I was mesmerised for those few minutes
Captivated in a traumatised trance
Gripped by something other worldly
Temptation raged war through my blood
Pounded brain cells to incomprehension
Made me question my former sanity
Places I had travelled
People I had seen
Their homes and faces staring back at me
Laughing and cajoling and beckoning to me
And then
Your hand
Touched my arm
Your words
Brushed the darkness away
And retreating
I found your quiet embrace
The souvenir seller
The vendor of forgiveness
The future holder of all life’s secrets
And I bought them all and promised you
Never
Never
Never
Would I go again to the ends of the Earth
And look over the edge to be tempted by the darkness that lies beneath.

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Daily one word prompt: Darkness

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fever trail

his fever followed you everywhere

hot sweating on your scented trail
along the dried up gulches and riverbeds
between haze stolen mountains and eagle nests
down wild beast trails through river forests

hunting     grasping     future fishing
hurling vapid words into cliffside caverns
watching     waiting     they fall into silence

aborted echoes of long remembered dreams
fractured     splintered     headshot through
like every buffalo slaughtered on every prairie
like every severed horn piled high for the hunter’s glory

the shattered highway cuts through the turgid night
bisected by your starlit brilliance
two-fingered by your opened-leg malevolence
photographed     pornographed     thermographed

always hoping to catch and blind poker you
shackled     bound     all to his famished self
a wild dog gnashing ripping flesh from bone
stalked     snatched     blood-dripped sand

gloating over his prized possession
his hand smothers your gaping mouth
howls vent and scorn over your battered body
dissolving in a muddied pool of stagnated fury

he gasps     chokes back the grief     turns
follows his fevered trail everywhere
sweating your scented temptation

poisoned without you
poisoned with you
poisoned in you
poisoned you

reward

(playing with imagery, mixing up the here and now with the bruised and burnished past, battlefields and seared landscapes, scars and shallow graves – nothing is sacred or lost).