Eairy

I stood at my precipice breathing the cold night air; the cliff of dull bitterness, a fester of woe.  None of the stars are in their place, the planets misaligned.  Lament, discontent, torment: all of these, aching.  Lost in the galaxy, no reason to be here, no reason to be gone; simply living, breathing.  I’m a mobile carcass with no purpose in sight, totally alone.  Alone.  Sorrow, fear, fury, yearn to be released.  There is no peace here, no quiet, and no calm; it is loudest in the silence.  I am unknowing of the alternative paths; there is no turning back.  Once I took my steps, they became etched in stone.  It burns like fire, freez