The Fool

I jump at the chance to spread my wings and fly

Over that steep ledge; where life and death

Wait with eager hands to take me with them.

I carry the weight of the world in a small bag, tied to a stick.

My life swinging back and forth, like a pendulum on a string.

I dance upon the edge of danger; its jagged teeth nipping

At my heels with emphatic pleasure. And I smile.

Taking that leap of faith or folly; I do not wonder where my feet will land.

For it’s landing is inevitable, not debatable.

No abstraction divides me from my purpose;

Whether known or unknown. It does not matter.

Men do like the chase.  The hot pursuit.

The kiss of cold steel in their hands.

The taste of hot lead in their mouth.

So I take that chance, because I must;

For the folly of man is not taking a chance at all.

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