Tacenda

Tightrope

Perched precariously on a tightrope
Balancing solely on misplaced hope
Step by step I teeter and totter on
Trudging all through the night and into dawn

Dare not peak down at the inky abyss
Instead keep my mind trained on the thought of your awaiting kiss
If this is what your love demands
Who am I to doubt these threadbare strands

Nearly across the the chasm
Willing my throbbing muscles to resist a spasm
In this fragile, wilting string I must
Place all my remaining trust

The thought of you waiting on the other end
Convinces me not to fear when the wind makes the rope twist and bend
But when I finally spot your face, I realize things may not go as planned
Because now I see the scissors in your hand