I’ve pondered what this day would be like for a long time
The day you would be called up and deliver us from damnation.
Never billed as the savior
Never called “The Next Big Thing”
Frequently inquired about by my brethren
Just as frequently dismissed by The Kevin (RIP)
I’ve wondered what it would be like when you would arrive.
Our hearts and our minds rarely work in concert
One is frequently struggling against the other in a never ending contest
Of who is right
And who is wrong
Love born from desperation oft ends poorly
The dangerous game is cold and unloving
And adding levels of danger and risk
Only makes the fall even more damning.
No, this love is no longer born of the unhappy desperation
Bestowed upon us from masters long banished to lesser roles.
No this love is born of hope and acceptance.
’tis a healthy love and appreciation of beauty and grace.
It is a dangerous thing, to fall.
But the true terror in falling is knowing the depths
From whence you’ve fallen
A mere flash of competence was enough
For Junior Lake.