Before the Fall

We stand where silence sharpens breath,

On the lip of something vast—

A cliff, a choice, a final thread

That trembles with the weight of past.

Your eyes, twin lanterns in the dusk,

Hold storms you’ll never speak aloud.

My hand, half-reaching, half-resigned,

Knows touch would only break the cloud.

The wind rehearses ancient lines

Of lovers lost and lives undone.

It hums between our brittle spines—

A requiem for what's begun.

No scream, no sob, no grand goodbye,

Just the hush before the shatter.

A moment stretched like thinning sky

Where love once swore it mattered.

And then

Not a leap, but a letting go.

Not a fall, but a fading slow.

Not a death, but a turning page

Where silence writes what words betray.

Would you like a version of this poem set in a specific scene—like a breakup in a car, or a soldier before battle? I can tailor it to any emotional cliff you’re imagining.