...I stand above, not that far... <br /> <br />I step down, my eyes gone crimson. <br />I crash to the floor, my tears creating a puddle. <br />My hands begin to quiver, unable to control... <br /> <br />...Wet, salty tears, enough to drown in... <br /> <br />I have no one, I am alone, and I am tired. <br />I have done so much harm, but it is like I cannot stop. <br />This is my resolution... <br /> <br />...It is no question, my rope is thinning... <br /> <br />I slowly gather myself, and lurch to my feet. <br />Cannot focus properly, I slump down to the floor. <br />Trying to regain myself, through my rushing tears... <br /> <br />...The die has been cast... waiting for the verdict... <br /> <br />I feel my heart... still beating away. <br />I wipe away my tears and get up. <br />Taking a deep breath, I stand strong... <br /> <br />...The roll completed, the face number... Four... <br /> <br />I slowly step back up, I grab onto it. <br />Fit my head through, and tighten. <br />I kick the chair away... <br /> <br />...'Number Four, the Asian homonym for... Death'... <br /> <br />'The Lord has forgiveness, but not for you my son, I am sorry.'<br /><br />Morgan Siegel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-long-as-it-takes/
