WARP EIGHT IN THE SLOW LANE *** EDGES ***
Edges, lived on, are seductive,
draw us closer, closer yet,
siren’s wail of falling, falling,
plunging til some doom is met.
Normal life can be so boring,
handrails, safety, dull, dull net,
etching brains in placid patterns,
hedging, hedging every bet.
Heed we then our fear of falling,
doom impending on each tick?
Heed we else the call of freedom,
pleasure sudden, death as quick?
Life’s a pattern, growing, growing,
each brick set atop the next,
soon the weave emerges clearly,
be it then for bad or best.
I was taught to reach for freedom,
make my pattern true but free.
I was taught the path of Rightness.
I was taught to pay my fee.
Lonely, lonely are the edges,
cold and windy, terror near,
slipping often, danger, danger,
I was taught to fight the fear.