Ascending to the precipice of your mind —

The mountain of deepest intentions turned stone —

I kneel before the fig tree at the peak,

Saying a few nothing words before taking a fruit for myself.

Staring across the canopy, I feel your gaze upon me from above.

Tears of acid well up in my eyes — melting my glasses —

Which I catch in a little crystal vial.

Playful streaks of sunlight bounce off the liquified fear.

Slowly, I crawl forward to the cliff and look over,

Folds of my red robe dangling over the edge

As I comprehend the massive drop.

My perception of light changes —

Everything's a little brighter now.

Every infinitesimal fold of the mountain comes into full view from above,

And I trace the ridges with my mind's eye.

Allocating a few minutes to myself,

My hands reach desperately for a pad of paper to write.

Everything, in that one moment, was in perfect clarity;

Laws of the universe mean nothing if there's no one to observe them.

I gently put down the pad and, in an instant, toss myself from the mountain,

A faithful end to a faithless servant.