By: Nathan Hill~
Nothing ventured nothing gained,
is often sound advice.
But what about the tattered souls,
we spend to pay the price?
Jumping from each jagged cliff,
with blindfold wrapped so tight.
The scars make road maps on our skin,
from every sightless flight.
Icarus at least had wings,
before his fated trip.
But we run naked in the night,
with hands outstretched to grip.
A human’s strength is to have faith,
that some leaps mean to fly.
Each beauty strong with steely will,
they spring with hearts held high.
So I count steps up to the edge,
and feel it with my toes.
To know the winds of one who soars,
I hope my bravery shows.
© Nathan Hill. All rights reserved, 15 days ago