Sloping less slippery
gleam your way up,
Making the slow fade
into far off.
Wet with indecision,
Cascading down within frailty
and drowning outcomes.
Which one...
as both stand in-wait.
Intertwined with struggle and fright,
or ease and abandon.
Turning from both bares an edge
unexpected.
Regret tears up from under,
as each step cuts both ways.
7-8-08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem