If a man stands on the precipice,
One foot in the air,
The other barely grabbing ground,
Winds blow and the skies are dark,
The fall is not short
But endless,
Pitless,
Bottomless.

If a man stands on the edge,
Leaning forward to the abyss,
Waiting to be swallowed whole,
The center indeed didn't hold
And everything fell apart
and everywhere the ceremony of innocent
was drowned in endless rivers of blood,
The best have lost and the worst have won.

If a man falls into the abyss,
Swallowed in darkness,
Drowned by defeat.

What would it matter?!