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Razor's Edge

One cold misty early morning heard a warning bourne in the air, in an age when, and in a place where no one seemed to have an hour to care or spare. As the days now seem to be growing shorter as well as colder instead of longer and warmer at this turning point of the season. Time now seems to be fleeting as madness tries to take control, as a deadline draws nearer. And has me feeling as though I am running and as if I have always been running. With me being not too sure where to begin,-
I have always been hoping that there’ll be a day I might be able to make a dream last, but then again dreams tend to come slow and go fast. As I hear them trying to call me out to come with them now to leave all behind, and be taken down in order to be caught up in their world, to be branded by those lies they tell behind my back through the smiles they wear. Knowing they have some kind of nerve to laugh and kick me when I am down and still smile and try to call me a friend.

Maybe one day I might understand why it seems that everything I touch seems to wither and die. As I lay here staring at the ceiling in the dark, or when I sit there staring down at the bottom of the glass. Sometimes making it hard to think, and at times hard to sleep. Having heard those voices on the wind say that life is what you make it, and it’s up to fate that which is possibly known in the soul. Yet, in some way it's part of me, apart from me, with the lost decrees, deals, and empty promises that were made sit there and say nothing,-
Now to know those things as a part of my memory of those people and things said from both sides of their mouths, yet I knew I was not magnificent as they had the idea I thought I was, so that joke was on them, one of the few times that happened. Saying nothing, in most cases to him and them and those like them, is enough for me when they try to call me out. The story is now getting old and growing cold with nothing seeming to change, with nothing really mattering. Living on a thin line and asking what am I supposed to do? Living this way it seems every day when it all started, carrying on with the feeling it doesn’t really matter what is said and done anymore.

I won't name names or where I've been, but I've been there and back again. Making me learn to live with those memories, which make me feel like I'm not sure where to begin when I bear witness. So bless me Father for I have sinned, and I am not sure at times if there will be Hail Marys said that will possibly save me. For I know the hands of time may tick no more, as darkness may fall upon the door allowing those shadows to be felt as they fall on me. I pushed hard on both patience and my luck, and have shouldered ifs, and ands, and buts. It's ok, and still it seems I've said too much. Still I have a few that I think I can rely on, and have found a reason or two to live on and not die,-
Which according to what they say where I originally came from a lucky man. While those takers, fakers, and talkers won't tell you anything and instead attempt to have you go with them now so they can attempt to buy and sell you. As they smile and sharpen their knives, to try and tempt you with either heaven or hell. And have the nerve to attempt to offer a helping hand when I was down as they just stand there grinning. Knowing that they try to take me for just another fool and act surprised when I’m seen on the street and I know they would rather see me paralyzed. But then again they one day might find out what a drag it is to see them playing their games, or to be them.

Seems I have been running, always running and it’s like I never have both feet on the floor, still it’s like I won the occasional fight but I’m gonna end up losing the war. It wasn't you, or me, or us, that I didn’t trust, but words are cheap from the cold hearted who think they aren’t made of flesh and blood. As the deadline looms ahead and it all feels as if everything has been blown away and not allowed to fade away. That may have been the price that was paid for living on a thin line. With no waves to wash up on that new shore.

Copyright Timberwolf International LTD: April 2015 - 6

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright Timberwolf International LTD. All rights reserved. Copyrighted and protected under the copyright laws of both The United States and of The United Kingdom. Under U. S. Code Title 17 § 204. No unauthorized duplication by any means including electronic, or copying may be allowed unless permission is asked for in writing and permission therefore granted by the author or copyright holder, or his/her agent. In writing and signed by the owner of the rights conveyed or such owner’s duly authorized agent. And duly witnessed by his or her representative or duly assigned agent. Under penalty of copyright infringement or intellectual property theft. All violators will be prosecuted.

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