If ever I find myself caught upon edge

Among those who would so readily throw me off, 

Then let it be known that I can still be found 

In the writings and such I have left. 

While yet I may do so myself such to see

What smiling and glorious fame would meet me,

Feeling hopeless as ever and growing vast and vague,

Do not ever request an explanation of it all, as it both ever and absently present.

An end to it come, will yet the observers watch and wait,

Ready to pounce on each and every mistake,

The hanging gloom preparing to drop

And crush you, and expel every breath from your lifeless form.

Hope may be absent for those who lack the desire to thrive,

But change is change, and time is change, let it wait,

And we will see just how far it goes;

And with that, I'll see you down the road.