DieChotomy

spectre of a soul
drifts
softly between
peak
and valley,
yearning
for
extremes.

thirsting
for tears
and love.

craving
the brutal
ecstasy of release.

scorched by grace
and salved by fate;
freedom begs
to live
through me….
to rise
over me…..
to die
with me.

for
death thrives
in the balance