With Thee On That Edge....

I saunter across the golden sands,

Leaving footsteps of my memories,

Follow me across the lands, and may betwixt all that may follow us both, ask I thou to hold my hand.

No, Oh for certainty to have me lips, no me dear dear company, am I so elated to have to myself, must I divulge that bear I intentions of no kind to captivate thee, 'tis mere a spectacle I want thou to see.

'Tis me priority for am I obliged to keep a void in a fugitive from thee, and must I thus, confess - 'twill be an errand in secrecy. Ye cliff of such grace is thy visit, counting for one now. Behold it down beneath, too beneath until art thine eyes too blind to see. Thou see, ye lofty peak witnesses thee today, as do thou - its height too high for thee to avert clumsiness of any kind - hath I so oft fallen from ye same height; and below, too down under ye green of the soil thy feet seek a stance on, a little beneath that brown, flows there a river with tears of some blinded eyes, but can they behold thee there, and stare they with such a red. Art thee too far from a swim there, but hath I - and 'tis suffocating for me to say; resides betwixt its bushes so green, such demonic presence. 'Tis with claws too sharp, and teeth too parched from ye hunger hath they addressed. The art they so keen now, and clasp I, thine fingers tighter now.

Why! can thee not behold? Pity, grace much pity! But my love is my love, and thus, my heart so bereft of ye sins I own, let me lend me eyes for thy soul.

Do not worry about me white so kept from ye bog, for am I already engulfed - too slowly and slowly. Ah! 'tis too malignant, and can I not despise the same - Clearly do I behold it now, pathetic is my crown.

Summon I for can I summon a company is that loiterer along the same ravine I share but 'twill be an imprecation of such ugliness for me to behold thee slumber on some same layer.