The water's cold and cliff is high,
Waves are splashing the rock below.
Taking a step closer, closer to the edge,
Closer to the fall and hoping for the best.

And the sand, the sand's whispering,
As the waves splash against the rocks.
The sand's whispers turn into screams,
As feet walk closer, towards the edge.

The cold wind, it glides, to the edge,
And forces the sand to swirl away.
Hitting the gentle waves and jagged rocks,
And limply sways.

A deep breath, last on top of the cliff,
While wind picks up towards the edge,
Forcing the cold water to part.
Surrendering to its cold embrace.

Swim back to shore or out to sea,
Or let the winds guide me.
One last glimpse up at cliffs edge.
To the jump that set me free.

Authors Note:

Originally, this poem was shorter. It had a much darker undertone. I didn't change anything, only added five lines. The first verses were based on a decision I was faced and its consequences. Years later I made it through the consequences and out the other side. I learned from my mistake and grew.