Stanza

I looked before I leapt,

To escape crashing and burning,

And am hitting an awful lot of rocks on my way down,

It’s drawing blood and bruising black,

And I don’t know that I’l make it back to solid ground.

I could give you reasons for the leap,

I could guess at why I’m here,

But all of them seem thin and silly,

When you’re bleeding from you ears.

I wish I could tell you that I made it,

But I’m not sure I’ll ever know.

One thing I’m sure, it seems to hold true,

It doesn’t matter in that final breath you draw,

On how you got there, where it is, or why,

What matters is what is left of you,

When you reach your end of time.