may the wind that hits your face aid you; traverse the face of fear.
let it carry you to the edge, where you stand alone with your kings and queens.
there, you should not, do not, cannot squander that steely iron in your veins, which you, and I, and we were born with.
miss wonder, I ask, will you live and die in this hour?
if you fell today, I ask, would your life keep singing when you do not?