'script of the bridge.'

she beckon’s you with open arms,
calling you, needing you to be true
true to yourself,
and without self belief it’s hard to refuse
her charm,
her warmth,
her untold wealth,
a welcome so divine
like a true friend,
indiscriminate as she gives a helping hand to end,
over her you go, one final time
(you know you should go home),
but within there’s a feeling so alive,
a rush so high to end it all

and as you fall
she takes you,
another lost soul
to call her own,

if only you could fly
upon the nights sky,
feel free from pain
as she calls your name,

the realisation as those lights fade
your hopes,
your dreams,
your desires cascade

and as she smiles she cries
as you scream you fade,

and once again,

she’s failed to save.

© 2007 Michaela James.