With just a small ledge separating him from the darkness creeping at his toes, he held fast to what little leverage the protrusion of hope could offer. It was either that or scraping aimlessly against the mossy walls of the well. Gravity would tear away at his nails' persistence anyway.
It was crumbling.
He knew it was too little to support him, but he held on anyway. Better to grasp what little faith he had left than to fall, knowing all the way down he did nothing to stop it.
He was foolish to gaze at the stars and miss the footfalls at his very feet.
The very angels at his side told him it was hopeless. He wasn’t one to listen. He hoped, but reality failed him. Perhaps the fall would kill him before bottom does.
Or perhaps the angels would have mercy on him...
Somewhere down the line.
1 comment:
haven't gotten around to it yet.
you know how my story goes. that one seems kinda out of place. don't know where to sneak it in.
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