The woman who lived on the edge of a volcano
Contained the true meaning of life.
She contemplated her days on the rim of fire
while spending her soundless nights there as well.
On one side her violet eyes witnessed the molten hot magma.
The one true substance that could melt her ivory skin
Into a crisp of ashes and air.
On the other side she saw the tiny specks of tattered trees.
Trees without leaves, without a purpose.
The faded grass did not entice her unique senses;
Senses that could feel the drops of rain gather in her hair
Before the clouds had even decided
They would release their sorrow.
Today was the exception.
Today was the choice.
Would she jump into the smoldering pool of fire and ruby
Or
Would she fall onto the dreary remnants of the
Once green grass now grey?
It was an interesting choice.
She mused over what side would deliver Life
And what side would deliver Death.
From the time the Sun stretched its limbs to
The time where the moon kissed the stars,
The woman, after hours of introspective, had
At last encompassed the answer.
She spread her arms out to the sea and beyond.
Her fingers dug deep into the lack luster soil
Reaching farther into the ground than he had reached.
Her body, yet, still remained on the border between Life and of Death.
Her Fire and her Love would prevent the choice from being made.
And there she remained beyond her days.
The answer has now been lost