Standing on a ledge
We’re all standing on a narrow ledge.
Any moment we could fall.
On the edge of an abyss
Could be at the end of it all.
On the brink of nuclear holocaust.
We live every single day
As if it was our very last
As we work, rest and play.
Nothing is at all secure
Though we pretend it is.
Swerving death every day
In this game of hit and miss.
We expect every day to repeat
As if there is no change.
But increment by increment
We mutate into the strange.
Opher – 2.10.2022