I know what’s to come and I know what’s to fear
I walk on thin ice
I regret every light step I’ve taken and I fear each tiptoe ahead
I push onward, guided only by hope
The etchings on the surface follow like ghosts
And I know what’s to come and I know what’s to fear
But I go on slowly, carefully, watchful, and prudent
Waiting as hope fades and anger burns
It slowly melts the ice; it melts my patience, my fear
Until I fall into firm footing; into stomping and sprinting
The etches surround, as they dance in wicked glee
I laugh as the cracks grow and split
And as the cool gorge grows, I collapse with it
I know what’s to come and I know what’s to fear
But my whole grows numb as I sink into serenity.