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The · Word · Pirate


The Pull

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You know a good man's work
is never done
his slope stretches higher than anyone
As each step forward
means a climb
higher up
towards the sun

yet soon the warmth upon this peak
just treeless stone and rime beneath
and by your side no one so few
this is it, you cry, but the view!

oh so steep, to let go such vertigo
and waver wondering back to the wall

it is not a stumble, not for you
if one only aims upward still
every step becomes a leap downhill
every lunge a longer plunge you knew
every push of pride a greater pull
that will not stop
'til every stride is effortless

the bottom comes up fast
but by then you are invincible
your unmade height, a bounding wight
screaming

with the desperate might
of giving in

it does not stop at all

even at the very
and now you are so light and merry

mad vainglory of the fall

it does not stop even at the

very very

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