The Descent

I stare down the cliff face,  
feel the blood rush from MY face,  
leaving me violently light headed.  
I start to float and then clumsily swim  
toward the wispy clouds in the bold blue sky.  
Breaking my gaze from the swaying boulders
my eyes search for something a little more solid
to hold me steady to the ground I stand on.  
 
Summoning the courage of a hundred men
I peak over the edge and wonder;
if I fell to the bottom  
how far would I fall  
after I left my broken body,
splintered, crushed, torn and sprayed
on the floor of this nearly endless pit.
 
Would my soul keep falling  
until it sticks to magma
charred and smelling  
like burned hair, skin and methane
or would it bounce off the surface
and sling shot to the clouds
somehow finding  
a harp along the way.
 
 
Only one way to find out,  
so I step into the void...
 
 
The rope stretches  
then bounces.
I twist and shiver,
hands stiffen and tighten,
friction hot again palms.
Somehow in the process
my head pointed downward
I stare at my life line
my brain screaming to God.
And slowly but surely
I slip to the ground,
inch by inch,
the skin blistering,
tense by tense,
my heart quivering,
my imagination running
completely out of control.
 
All my mouth can do
is mutter prayers and obscenities
before I break out in laughter
by no decision of my own.
 
And finally at the bottom,
after what feels an eternity,
the afternoon sun too bright
as I lay in the sand,  
every muscle clenched tight,
as I giggle like a mad man,
my body no longer listens
when I tell it to stand.
 
But I made it to the ground
which I guess makes me a man?