c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(8-26)
The end
I see it when peering down my leg
Trousers pulled up from the ankle
This is where others in the bloodline
Were caused to tread
None of them going gladly into that abyss
That chasm of affliction
Into which I have now descended
I had hoped to be spared
By some work of chance
Perhaps a gift of grace, undeserved
But now I am at the precipice
Swollen feel standing flat
Toes gripping the edge
As I look down
Down, down, down
Into the void below, which beckons
Offering a Siren call
One I would like to resist by choice
But hear despite my own plea
To be deaf
