Here we are, I'm flirting with the edge yet again. Are you sick of it yet? Oh but if I didn't, what would we be?
You see, I'm not as blind as you might think. I can see that I've almost fallen over that edge, almost plunged to certain death, but you know me; I'm never too close to the edge until I have fallen off.
But I think that time has come, that I have indeed toppled over. Still, this doesn't quite feel like falling, it feels like I haven't moved at all. I always thought the worst part wasn't the impact but the time it took to get to the bottom; the waiting. The falling. Maybe I was wrong. Knowing what was coming.
Well, I'll keep sailing right on in to it, whatever it may be; whether danger or desire or death. That's our final destination anyway. Not even we can escape that. And you know it.
Yes, I see, this isn't what you told me it would be. This isn't nearly as bad as the hell you made me believe I would be damned to traverse. I look up at you, in your mighty throne, and hear you laughing, because they all believe your facade, they all believe that you're as good as they say. They won't ever know the truth until it's too late. No, those who were really good, were the ones you banished, and threw down to the ground.
I wonder, how many of the others are crying because of what you've done? How many more will have to suffer before they come to realise the truth?
I shall sit here, my wings broken, my soul shattered, but my determination still firm. I shall show them what you are one day. And then they shall weep because of their foolishness. Oh yes Puppetmaster, you should be afraid.