Emotions run wild on the tenth astral plane,
Viewing the world through a fractured, dark frame.
Between life and its end, which do you prefer?
I chose the cold edge where the boundaries blur.
Life is a canvas you’re told you can prime,
But mine is just charcoal, a waste of my time.
They’re all hitting the pavement, chasing the air,
While I’m sprinting toward a ghost that isn't there.
Darkness consumes what the light cannot show,
A hollowed-out vessel with nowhere to go.
A spirit possessed by a hunger so deep,
With eyes like a predator’s, never at sleep.
Reality fades into static and glare,
An illusion of stone in a kingdom of air.
I’m seeking a prize that cannot be caught,
Buying back seconds that shouldn't be bought.
Life is a rarity, fleeting and bright,
A dream that dissolves at the edge of the light.
But death is a shadow, familiar and vast,
A range I have entered, a die I have cast.
Caught in the gears of a violent devotion,
Drowned in the wake of a fractured emotion.
©2026 Mary Robbins
