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It’s a jewel and a jinx,

a blessing and a blight;

wanting to walk blind

but enlightened with sight


The burden is the ability

to arouse art out of air,

in sketching towers

and castles to share


As pilots in fronts

gliding toward promise,

vision is harnessed

so the work will be honest


The motives vary

why a why exists,

maybe it’s agony

maybe it’s bliss


Maybe it’s madness

disguised as expression,

veiled at a grave

without relative connection


There might be fireworks

in line for explosion,

waiting for darkness

and adjacent emotion


You may not gather,

but channels choose us,

in lonely meadows

with a hunter’s lust


The need to explore

exotic terrain

is less a desire

and more to maintain


Insight uncovered

is absorbed in portions

in a sporadic diet

of discharged endorphins


This chemical influx

cooks narrative drafts,

translating purpose

to ensure it will last


So whatever’s the alibi

we dive off of cliffs,

not knowing what waits

or the percentage we’ll miss


Into the bloodshed

destined by a call,

felt without doubt

it’s worth the fall

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