Escape

Poised on the edge of the cliff of his life
He hesitates to jump
So he looks back over a desert and questions
Is this all there was? All there is?

Turning looking down
He wonders what this act will bring
Certain as he banishes his cobweb of doubt
This is all that is left

The barren flatness behind him
Howls its protest through the winds which rip across its nakedness
Again he turns, this time in hope
Hope that it is more than the wind who whispers,”Wait, wait perhaps awhile”.

Still he finds nothing
Nothing that can turn him away
From the pull of the promise of escape
That carries him back to the edge.