Choices, choices...

Under the horizon the sun hides,

the wind bows in the moon’s presence. 

Muffled screams behind closed doors finally subside,

the clock still chasing the present. 

Standing above, my eyes look down;

and they coruscate like midnight stars,

and I wonder... if I should fall and drown. 

Perhaps I should fall into the arms of death,

that would be utterly bittersweet. 

Or is it love that I’m supposed to fall in its depths,

and that melancholy, it’s supposed to beat? 

I think and wonder,

as the rain abjures the clouds,

and I think and I ponder,

if the end of time will come 

before I put rest to these maddening doubts.