Flat slabs make perfect grips.
Sharp points make perfect steps.
They tell you not to look down,
And that's exactly why you do.
It looks like a clean, easy drop.
You can feel the air rushing through you,
The rocks rising to meet you in a smooth, soft caress.
Your hands loosen,
And you wonder what it's like.
You feel nothing,
And so you feel everything.
Steady now, count the heartbeats.