The Towering Tower

I find myself atop a towering tower
To edge over is a plummeting death
Would I jump, the breeze to make my body a flower?
Or would I inhale a deep sparse breath
And turn from thoughts ever so sour?
Would I jump with reason distinct?
The purpose understandable?
Or would it be of innate instinct—
My soul to be so damnable
Would there be something to gain?
Something to lose?
Would I be sick of the pain?
Or would the reason to all be news?
Or would it be out of simple tiredness?
Repetitive is this oh, so melancholy life
Or would it be of sickness—
So sick of the strife
Or rather a taking to curiosity?
Curious to meet so mysterious an end
Or to all am I but a despicable atrocity?
My last care about the world now spent
Yet, throughout the fall…
Would I flail? Would I shout?
Would my regret never stall?
Or would I simply fling myself about?
Or would I be thoroughly calm—
Hypnotized into tranquility,
Not fretting at all
Simply to myself but jest, not humility?
But the End—Oh, what could it be?
Perhaps a vessel of black, all-consuming
For light, my eyes to never again see
My eternity to be thus: dooming
Or a long lonely tunnel would I behold?
My eyes, from the light, to be painfully burning?
Alas, the other side—What does it withhold?
Wading forth, my eyes never turning
Or falling, would I stay?
Falling forever and all
My body to slowly decay
Wishing not for this ungodly fall
Or be there flames to burn flesh so searing
Amongst evil souls of despair?
Torment to always be sneering
Cut off are my last gulps of air
Or would the tower I again be atop?
Plunging again, my soul to always endure
My death on a loop, never to stop
All over again, to be sure
Thinking this all, I step back before
I embark upon such a questionable fate
I take a deep breath as caution I forgo
And jump
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Category:Poetry
Category:Banned In CP