The ground, soft, sticky, and smelly
is melting away beyond my window.
I cannot touch or smell it.
I cannot hold it in my hand.
My view fades as the fog rolls in from the fields;
It has disappeared; vanished.

I step through my window
I walk out on the nothingness
I do not sink or stumble or dissipate
I am held by the unknown ground

The rock, solid, rough-hewn, and firm
is firmly in my grasp.
I look down the cliff’s face.
I look confident and controlled.
My life falls from the mountain as the rock crumbles in my grip;
It has disappeared; vanished.

I fall through the air with the greatest of ease
I smash, lifeless, against the rocks below
I think my last thought, “I was certain…”
I am loosed by the firm ground

The path, dark, twisted, and chartless
is the one that I must take.
I thought, “Straight is the path”?
I thought, “Narrow is the gate”?
My life slips from view as I venture on, to the unknown;
I must disappear; vanish.