Without hope or agenda
absent motive or forethought

I take these steps
foolish strides on the ledge,
headed in your direction

guided by your voice
your perfume and
your dreams: a vision of what might be

Driven by the certain knowledge that
my path is inevitable
even if the outcome may be

as all great quests carry risk
else why would they be remembered as great?

Without hope or agenda
lacking a clear mind
I reach out
for your hand; for your heart


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