Here I am,

On a lonely bluff,

Towering in the air,

Standing on the thin layer of sanity,

That separates me,

from the hollow interior of the rock,

From emptiness that surrounds my pillar.

I look down,

Off the edge,

At the sheer cliffs of schizophrenia around,

And into the aphotic depths of insanity.

I set up camp under the stars,

And hear them calling my name,

And the howling cliffs,

The frigid updraft,

Of this tiny bluff,

And there is no escape,

Just blackness surrounding.

Dancing atop my little island of sanity,

Where whispers from below linger in the air,

Testing the limits,

I balance my foot on the edge,

And extend my ear,

So that I may hear what is being said,

But then my bluff shakes violently,

And I'm wrapped in a blanket of black air.

Now I'm falling off my bluff of schizophrenia,

My little layer of Earth,

The one once tainted with my human presence,

Towering above,

My eye's stained glass.

My home,

All I've known,

But now I endlessly fall,

Fall,

Fall,

Into the depths of psychotic darkness,

My new home,

All I'll ever know...

The viscosity of the air thickens,

And I softly touch the ground of the eternal nothingness,

I wander the blind canyon,

Slamming my palm against walls for direction,

But hearing the walls break and begin to crumble,

And I waste my breath with futile screams,

That echo up,

And fade away.

I see inhuman faces,

As they gather around me,

Whispering lies,

So loud,

Blowing out my eardrums,

Spreading the rumor,

That we are all stuck,

In this wretched canyon.

For all that I can see,

I'm completely surrounded,

By a maze of bluffs,

Bluffs that are vacant,

Bluffs still teeming with life,

And bluffs on the brink of collapse,

From the pounding of palms,

On my side.

And so we all fall,

From our bluffs of schizophrenia,

Into the darkness,

Of what lies beyond.