When I should have climbed scree to look for stars
For life is up to chance and not rosters
And easy choices bring us mostly scars.
So the record can only condemn me
For all judgements and errors of neglect
But there’s a field where I hope to be free
Of this world’s spiteful resolve to reject.
To kiss your lips is my last ambition
Because your eyes have set my heart on fire
And my blood pumps me into position
For my love’s task: your pleasure to inspire.
And this is my view from the utmost top
Above contours where all others will stop.