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