Friday, June 22, 2007

A YOUNG Mountain climber

The mountains are full of emotion. Their monolithic stature leave men to praise their power. Snow and rock like armor protect the beast and this vision of grandeur pulls men to their footsteps to test their manhood. These mainstays are like women, they teach us that we are only men.

I scream,
I reach out,
But air is all I grasp at,
No hand reaches out to save me,
No burst of wind rights me,
And no god above to save me,
With only oblivion beneath,
I die,
As a MAN,
And not the GOD,
Youth fooled me into believing I was…