Smile.

When I look into the Abyss you call tomorrow, I see the black. The inescapable dark that shadows our every move. This world is but a balancing act of loss and gain. Those who gain live in the light, but every scale has two sides.

I toe the line of this abyss and drink in its cold. I see his foul face sneering towards the shattered remains of this once mighty soul. The soul who once lit this world, the soul who kept it warm. This Atlas on sand, this trial less Hercules, this frail knight raising his final salute, is all that is left of the man who will never be.

I stand at the abyss looking through ashes of a life not lived, seeing a future that is never to be. They stand at the edge of the abyss, viewing the shade they never new, the cold we live with everyday. They all fall to our world but we are their stepping stones back to the light. Every red line on our arms gives us a small flash of their light, every burn brings us close to life, just to be dropped back at the edge.

We stand at the abyss with a decision to make, to surrender to the Abyss and let fall the light, or embrace the dark we live in with a sweet caress of the blade and join our fallen hero. Join in his defeat. For some to win we all must loose. We must be the buffer to that abyss, to save the light we will never know.