On The Edge Of Life

Tell me what its like to live on the edge of the life?
To live in the nothingness that resides between life and death?
What its like to cling to life as if slip from from your grip silk?
As the memories of life run further and further away.

Those liquid memories that escape from my eyes,
enough to fill my glass over and over,
and i'll keep drinking them just to feel them escape me again.
I hold on, hold on,
silent.

Im out of memories to cry over,
out of happiness.
I must embrace what is my life
but is it truly life?
Wasn't life the joy when i held my duaghter for the time?
Wasn't it the laugh of my wife?
Wasn't it pride in my eyes when my daughter learned to walk?
Wasn't it the kisses i shared with my wife?
Wasn't it the bedtime stories my daughter listened?

But they're gone now.

So is life the pain i felt when i held my little angel's bleeding body?
Is it the misery of seeing your soulmate surrender to death beside you?
Is it dread of burying your life with your hands?
Is it the horror of reliving their death every day?
Is it the attempt to bandage your wounds that you know won't heel?
Is it pain in your heart that keeps getting bigger untill you fear it might engulf you ?
Or is the constant longong that occupies your heart and mind ?

For if they were my life,
and i lost them
But did i loose myself too?
Am i dying in life
or
living though death

I can't tell the difference anymore

and once again i feet their presecce,
i feel her footsteps ,
 i hear her laugh.
I yearn to turn around and hug them
but in my heart i knew they're mere ghost of the past,
ghost of what life had been,
here to taunt my existance.

Did i truly deserve to live?
Was i that good ?
Or did i deserve to see them die?
I am i that bad?

Am i not to balme for their deaths ?
For it was i who took them to wagha border in the first place.
Her fourth birthday it was,
Her deathday it was.
It marked the death of my own life,
it marked the birth of my existance.
For i do not live , nor do i die,
i live somewhere in between,
i live inside my world of sorrow.
Secluded,
alone.
Where i deserve to be.

For it is easy to die,
 then to survive.

And that is what i do
survive
push the egdes of life and death just one more inch apart,
make space for myself,
to avoid being crushed,
fading into non-existance as the edges meet.

And if any of you desire the answer to living on the very edge of life
come find me,
seek me in nothingness that seperates me from my family.
Look for me,
in my own universe of sorrow where i reside,
you'll find me.
And if any of you wish to live in this world with me
be my guest
it's getting lonely.

A/N: I wrote this poem for my school paper originally. It was a written as a reminder of the wagha border attack of 2014.