The Evermore

What depths are there

Where even existing has much below it

What heights are there

Where beyond is such a petty thought

And here I stand

In the midst of anywhere

Is there anything that holds me in place?

I see no brace for plunging

I see no harness for soaring

I am wretched;  I am elated

And blind either way

From the depths

I run until exhausted;  then I sprint

And when truth catches my shoulder

And calls me a blindman

I run still faster;  my back is always blind

I reach up so high

Who will stop me?

As I gaze into that everbeyond