Descent to Love

The red text against the artwork on this piece is a little difficult to read, so I have put the entire poem here aswell:

Looking down at life’s
Twisted, spiral staircase,
Into the abyss beyond,
The future could hold anything
And, truly, I don’t mind what
Is thrown at me anymore;
I’ve had so many knocks
That I barely bruise now.
And if the roughly hewn
Walls rip at my skin on
The way, as I descend
That flight of jagged steps,
I shall hardly feel the pain
And will ignore the blood
As it seeps against my
Sanity and dreams
And weeps into a
Blinding white hole of
Nostalgic heartache.
All that matters to me
Is that you’re there at
The bottom, waiting to
Heal my wounds and
Wrap me in a soft blanket
Of your precious love