The Original

The Original

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to have fallen, and broken, only to forget that there's still pain

Lazarus's avatar
Lazarus
Aug 03, 2025
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person standing near cliff
I chose to fall, many times. Yet I dare be angry at others who do the same. Photo by Leio McLaren on Unsplash
Crunch,
crunch,
crunch

Wind from every direction
raises a fine, red dust,
dry as fire from the spirit's fingers

that invite me forward, toward him, 
away from where I started.
To the edge; the end.

Boulders frame the path, and my footsteps,
which inch closer
to a darker, colder, wider space.

Look at how high we are; how high I am.
It's how high I've always been I guess,
in spite of myself.

Thousands of feet in the air,
I look over a vast expanse
under a thick, black blanket.

The spirit calls me forward, over the edge;
to something great.
Something for which the world will know me. 

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© 2025 Arun L. Chittur
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