The thin line between sane and insane,

Dusk and twilight,

Dawn and sunrise.

A clock at 11:59

Ticking closer to midnight.

Hearing Death's call,

Trying to hold on,

To say a last goodbye.

As thin as blue lines on paper,

Thinner even still.

The Line is never seen

For we jump it in a second.

Sometimes, though, we teeter on it;

Trying to decide which way to fall.

To the lighter side of good and sane

Or, to the darker side of evil and insane?

To follow or to lead?

To love or to give up?

Many places the Line appears.

Are you standing on it now?