Dichotomy

I stand with one foot in an abyss,
toes pedicured by dangling anglers.
And the other on a mountain,
basking in crimson lava.

My fingers desperately wander,
over frigid extremities, benumbed.
I hold the earth from spinning
and then give up, pricked by it's axis.

As I raise my head over the horizon,
dark clouds appear and languidly disappear
breaking the melancholic monotony of blue.
Mizzling with eyes clenched.

The rest? I know little about,
hides and runs in spaces confined ,
hoping, that perhaps someday,
stars realign, abjuring the eternal hunt.