There is a plateau in my mind,
Endless in size as it is flat.
I wander it’s smooth surface,
Overcome by it’s dimension,
Frightened that I can see no
Depth, nor landscape offering
The answer to why it exists.
I want to race to the edge, peer
Over the side, that omnipresent
Dangerous edge” sans safety net.
I yearn for anything that may provide
An outlet to this boundary, this single
Dimensional purgatory. My endless
Plateau-always shrouded in a stark
Nook and cranny of my mind.
It holds me back from a real-or
Imagined-glorified destiny of purpose.
The drinking stopped, the anger abated,
The allowance of others to be first,
All an effort to move off this plateau.
Do I live that timeless quip:“Horror Vacui,
The fear of the nothing that is”?
So often I ask:is the end no more
Than a remorseless coffin?
Is this really the last plateau?
If I peer over the edge,
Will anything be there?