Walpurgis Night

At long last I stand at destiny's mountain.
All around like black clouds
formless beings crowd, twilight creatures,
black-winged,
phosphorous-eyed.
Shall I stay? Shall I go? The path lies in
  darkness.
If I stay here peacefully at the foot of the
  mountain,
then no-one will disturb me.
Calm I can see their struggle as a mists game
  in the air,
merely a stray eye.
But if I go, I go, then I know nothing any
  longer.
For the one that takes those steps,
life becomes a story.
Even fire
shall I ride on coiling snakes of fire.
Even the wind
shall I fly on winged kites.
Even nothingness,
even lost in the storm
am I hurled forth dead or living, a
  nose-heavy fate.