Astoria Bridge

On the eastern shore it is the love that is shared,

on the western shore it is the one that cared.

in between are the mountains and the valley of death,

and the sky is air not fit for breath.

the chasm is bare and loves destinies filter and split,

the place in the heart left bare is a bottomless pit.

but what light can be seen as a young over edge,

while as clear as the time on their knees and the pledge.

Hang on to the smallest fraction of eternity, or the inexplicable treasonous malice will devour.