There is peace in a path.
A narrow road, though it boasts of whistling cliffs,
those taunting lips, smashing the masts of adventurous ships.
It would be a lie,
if I said I haven't tried,
to reorganize,
my innermost parts out of adolescent formation,
Because thoughts I've entertained now reign throughout my mind,
like a dictator elected by popular vote,
like the deep which holds up the glacier that floats,
I find fear is a liar and she's never been kind.
Like staring at shadows until you see your worst enemy,
horror cinematic score, as the mirror gives you clarity.
Identity a scarcity in a dull, cold chamber,
looks like the real world but its upside-down,
Not quite right, black screen that shines against nature,
A deceptive light that you chase,
while you hide under sheets,
staring down the staircase,
it looks like you yet you know it's a stranger.
But these days,
heights don't scare me the way that they used to,
jumped off a bridge to prove to myself it wasn't true,
Feet placed firmly on the stones of solutions,
of callousing hands grasping rocky protrusions,
ascending the mountain which returns with repentance,
returning to walk in the light and see it through.
My hands hold the rope, but I didn't tie it
Heaven isn't distracted, she's extended her kindness.
I always got the order wrong,
I thought the affection of a woman would make me the man of my dreams,
but that comes first.
Love bore me, shaped me, and gave me my name,
so I'll live by it.
And that's the point,
there's peace in a path,
the acceptance of name,
to face those fears and say,
"You're wrong. I'm a son of faith"
Learning, or crafting, who you are.
