Let us take this leap of faith
with open arms and miles of grace.
Steal a look down, steal a hesitant step away.
Don't grip the ledge with your toes,
it'll only make the splash worse.
The stone's cutting anyway,
and you wait for raw feet to spread.
Raw stomach, raw flesh.
I don't think so, do you remember?
You are one with the air.
Wings will not apparate
trying to save a dying fate.
Break the slacks of society and recreate.
The mist inspires, minds conspire,
in a cold, wet, dire hour.
Is the water arriving yet?
Is it concrete or sea foam?
Is there a safety net beneath?
Is there a team to break the fall?
Or are you hitting rock?