OK, I lied. I can't wait for Monday. These are kind of addictive for a 'poetry slut'. Too bad I have to leave in 15 minutes.

: Living on a string of life,
: connected, yet feeling the cry of a thousand souls,
: as I hang, suspended, between light and dark on the
: precipice.
: Drop, and return.
: Devil won't take me.
: Lord forsakes me.
: At the brink of the precipice.
: Drop down again and again...

: The steel on the edge...

: Honed, Immaculate.
: A crying babe,
: My life made, but for that all is lost...
: Again, into the maelstrom of life which I cannot measure,
: but for one, crying babe in the wilderness of my mind.
: The man who has sent a thousand souls to death,
: and wished for one to pierce his heart that he may be at rest.
: Searches, forlorn, again,
: What may you throw against me that I may not toss?
: When my depths have been strewn as the innards of a whale upon
: the waters, take all sustenance you lovers of Mannon.
: Eat my liver.
: Take all mortal remains and remnants afforded to you....
: Enjoy....