Your Poetry Dot Com - The Bridge

As I walk this bridge on this thunderous night,
I slip and fall and nearly die.
The further I tread the more bewildered I be...
The substance consumes the insides of me.

On the edge of the bridge I am tempted to step.
Never before have i ventured to this depth.
Should I follow instinct and turn back now?
To depart the raging river and it's excessive growl.
To scream for help from the bridges cell,
to come back down and be all well.

Or should I pursue my myrth and take just one more step,
Like a gamblers tricks i never rest.
Obsessed with the bridge and what it makes me be,
It diminishes the memories plagueing me.

The bridges boudary is drawing near,
It's rotting surface is arousing fear.
What I do I do not know,
I climb so high, yet plunge so low.
But the bridge can be walked again I know...

The end of the bridge I have stepped upon.
Against the raging river I am holding on.
I grasp tightly at the rail...the realm of mind that makes it all well.
But the bridges surface wet and abused,
The place I so often tread upon has fallen through.
As I slip away into the night, I go down willingly without much fight.
In the morning i shall not wake,
For the bridge is the conquerer and for me it's too late.

This poem is Copyright © xxxdropsofjupiterxxx