I soar above seeking a path
Fingers gripping meshing cords
The infinite made finite
Far below, another’s pain burns
I tug a rope, and offer salve
The fire soothed, higher I soar
When new hurt calls, I respond
Again, and again, not to rise
But that the path is clear, and the sky is bright
Fickle luck brooks no calm
Electric arcs cut a strange, dark sky
The fire is lance-sharp, the pain now mine
Far above, another soars free
Their white, bright sky is a cocoon
My grey presses, presses heavy
The other sees, eyes hard and true
And turns away towards pleasure
The storm passes, and I continue
Only the wind steers mindless ropes
The path is plain but it is mine
Mine and mine alone
The call of another hurt grows
But each refusal softens the next
My path and mine alone
My heart soon begins to grow cold
Colder than the mindless wind and mesh
Squeezes tight until there is only darkness
The path is plain but I cannot see.
I reach out for a different rope
Pulling at new possibility
The call of another is a sum
Hero or villain, friend or foe
I heed only those whom I owe
Like the one now slumped in grey
A common grey face that adds up
The fire soothed, higher I soar
Not quite to heaven, not quite so high
But the heart is still for now.
Nervous time brooks no calm
Unheard pain adds to unwanted sums
The heart is gnawed and weary
I tug the forgotten first
Into the murk I sink, the salvebringer
But my heart is full and I soar again.
Crests and troughs bring clarity
That a steady path never showed
Truth lies in jarring motion
To seek the path is the path.
