Without a Rhyme

Faces of strangers appear in the mist of this fog,
Some fade away, others linger.

Nothing changes upon this cracked sidewalk.

Wheels turn, gears lock, and fate find’s a way.

Destined to search,
To not wait for the sun to rise, and clear our sight.

No, these feet must not falter.

The edge awaits us all.

So hold onto that rope, let your calluses build,
Climb even though you can’t see the end.

Please don’t falter.

We’re never lost; so don’t hide when the thunder roars.
No, let the lighting guide you.

Then things change and the cycle is broken.

Oscar Grijalva