Begin with the promise that you have purpose.
Though this premise leads to denouement,
there is no guarantee of welcome in the cold city.
Just sacrifice and the flight of birds.
A sleeping head of hydra everywhere you go.

But when the hero comes first, you know obstacles
will be overcome. You know Baba Yaga
will gift a horse eventually. You know the stone
will relinquish its sword to the right touch.
You know you are in someone’s hands.

Without a hero, though, no one knows
how this will go. You are left to consider
yourself as cautionary tale. Boogie Man. Evil
can exist for no reason at all. Antagonism piling up
to the windows and drifting against the door.

With what confidence can you claim your life
as your own story? You could be nothing.
Or maybe a hiccup in someone else’s dinner.
Maybe your map keeps accordioning out
like winter: bright and blank and bleak.