A Thin Line

A thin line divides the sky
And it is on that fateful line that I tread
On one side a youthful summer's day
Warm and pristine to those who enjoy it
On the other, a swirling, churning tempest
A tumult ready to devour and swallow

On this tight rope I walk
Unaware of its origin or starting point
In my heaviness of mind I pace this wire
Unknowingly shreading the thread which begins to unwravel
Heavier and heavier my steps wear on the delicate yarn
My wild fallacies slicing the fragile string

And finally when the tension is too much
And the rope has reached its threshold
It snaps with a quiet violence
The warm and cool airs rush towards each other
Spinning for but an instant and then mixing
But still my world turns to gray