On The Precipice Poem by J.B. LeBuert

Standing on the edge of the world
To the place where I had been hurled
The bosky landscape was gone
No longer just somebody's pawn

Starting over with trepidation
For this, there is no explanation
Here I awoke in the misty morn
My heart in shreds and badly torn

Abandoned now, everything expended
Possibly that's the way intended
Beauty, a far cry from my vision
Just some object of derision

Numerous paths confuse my way
Should I go or should I stay
This is the precipice of my life
Speculation and concern overly rife