The Cliff
Onward, forward, I stride
To the cliff I march
No rope nor gear
Just the Sun as my guide
Onward and forward, I trudge
Deafening whispers of echoing winds
Carving their mask on the valley below
As I ponder the muddy clay path before me
Onward, forward, I go
To the cliff I march
Ignoring the urge to stray
To take a leap of faith
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