Schism

• Loxon Lauer, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2018

We stepped off the edge,
darkness an envelope sealed shut by gravity,
smoke curling from below,
the magma coming into view,
for a moment we all stutter as one,
a thought of regret flashing through our minds,
like a bolt of thunder,
maybe we could have stayed alive,
our hearts pumping memories through our minds,
like a piston firing at the speed of thought,
we shouldn't have stepped of the edge!

I remember watching the rift open in my uncle's field,
gaping back at me like death's skull,
The pain then is nothing compared to what I feel now,
The heat bubbling the blood that lies in my veins.
Why had I given in to this?