( from a Nietzschean perspective )
I will not leap.
The abyss is not a cradle,
but a mirror that shows only itself.
To demand meaning is to demand illusion,
and I will not be consoled by shadows.
The stone rolls, and I push it still—
not toward heaven,
but into the raw glare of the sun.
There is no higher ground,
only this earth, this dust, this breath.
O silence,
you are not a wound to be healed,
but a companion to be endured.
I will walk with you,
hand in hand with the absurd,
and call it fidelity.
For joy is not in the answer,
but in the defiance of the question.
And if the gods are mute,
then I will sing louder,
knowing the song dies with me,
yet still singing.
( from a Kierkegaardan lens )
Despair is not the absence of God,
but the sickness of forgetting Him.
It gnaws like a worm in the marrow,
a silence that mocks the soul’s own echo.
Yet faith is no easy balm,
no gentle cradle for the weary.
It is a cliff’s edge,
a trembling step into the abyss,
where reason falters,
and only trust can bear the weight.
O Christ, Eternal Paradox—
You who are both Infinite and Infant,
You who are both Judge and Redeemer—
teach me to fall into You.
For the world offers scaffolds of sand,
and the self builds prisons of pride,
but You alone are the groundless ground,
the abyss that holds,
the darkness that shines,
the silence that sings.
So I leap—
not because I see,
but because I am seen.
.