I Live on The Edge

Up, up, up she climbed the mountainside
A wanderer ever tattered and forlorn
Pausing a moment as she arrived
At her edge of the world

Having travelled far and wide
Paths trodden once and never again
Gazing over the graceful cliffside
With which no beauty could contend

Her soul emitted a spent cry
For she had passed a life
Simply alone, completely untied
To anything in the realm of Time

Yearning for a peaceful culmination
For her broken body, if not her broken mind
During this regretful lamentation
Sharp weathered eyes suddenly spied

The wispy smoke of a village down below
Floating up into her cloudless starry night
Down in the valley filled with snow
The human dwellings filled with light

Weeks flew watching the people
Shifting ever farther to the edge
To gain an even better view
Of the world under the ledge

She forgot her exotic travels
And the knowledge gained
She forgot anything besides her small world
Her body became trained

Became attuned to the world below
She cared naught
For anything outside
The small village of thought

So she spent her life
Dancing or crying
Singing or sleeping
On the edge

And it is only a matter of time
Before she flies
Before she dies
Flying from the edge