Manic be the lead,
cry havoc as we flip foots
to tortured crags and spires,
stumbling forward with
our passion ripe for exploration.
Mouth wide, horizons touched
at corners up or down
you wheeze with laughter
and profound sadness.
Adrift in the murky seas,
your unwitting strike of land
forces puzzled danger,
all hope placed in trinkets
that shall never save you,
we must escape our pressure
cooker.