Desinding Into My Last Fall Poem by Walter C. Edwards

Right now I feel like I am walking on a type rope,
with a broken end hanging out in space,
being prodded by the devil just to see me fall,
and now I am free for the first time that I can recall,
floating on air as descending in my last fall,
that the earth take me up and spit me out,
just before I hit the ground,
and maybe I might just bounce,
then float again high into the sky,
but the ground seems to coming up way to fast.
or I just go splat.