This One's for You

And by you, I really mean, you the reader.

There was a man, but a man no longer.
He sits now, battered to the core by his
Mere existence.
His heart was rent from his chest; easily
Likened to the life stock fallen from a cliff,
Whose only ally against his imminent death,
Is time.
But time was not enough of a taunt against
The beast's mortality, for his flesh was torn
By the very jutting at which he peered, before
Plummeting.
Plunged then into, not death, but not death,
Whether to die lingering by his wounds,
Or to be plunged onward, downward,
Ever on.