Vishal Dutia

Not precious; just precarious.

Not precious, only precarious,
Tiptoeing on the edge of the abyss,
Unstable ground beneath my feet,
My fears and doubts, ever so discreet.
Living with the fear of the fall,
Barely balanced, with no backbone at all.
I cling on to hope, for that’s all I have,
In this world that’s both cruel and grave.