Crashing over the edge,
I feel as if I am about to fall.
Tears pour faster
than the waterfall below.
Questions with no answers
fill my perturbed mind
Why me?
Why this?
My heart is being squeezed
my the unmerciful hand called Life.
Breathing becomes a gift
that I, at times, desire to reject.
The water below does not fall as fast
as the tears
painting my soul.