Balance me

Balance me

The edge is easily crossed

The blade too finely drawn

The line walked

A roadside sobriety test

Revoke my licence

It was always provisional

Watch me fall

From grace

Along with every other

Traveler

Who walks this way

Humanity so rightly flawed

Fulfilling no destiny

Other than its task

To challenge every choice

Nothing is certain

To be met

Along the way

What is made of the tour

Will be a mystery

Until it is done

It is not in my gift

Neither am I practiced

Or well versed

In living

I walk alone in existential

But not in this determination

It has no prefix

A postscript may yet be written

But the truth of this

Is beyond the grasp

However far it extends

Meaning barely

Brushes the fingertips

Ghosts are real

Lost companions

A comfort for inconsolability

A counter

To the balance of existence

Touch my lips

With a kiss of

Untold secrets

A marriage of life

And death.