Probably not as funny as I think I am
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Those who do not look See only barren wasteland. Goats and gods mock them.
By Chloë J.3 years ago in Poets
Listen so you hear The wind sings for the summit, Songs of life below.
Strength everlasting Shelters those brave enough to Leave the trusted path.
Faithful guardian, Mighty like the baobab Life in its shadow.
Snow and corpse coated, Yet still sought out by many Seeking to conquer
Forgotten long past 'Neath the roiling ocean waves, The drowning mountain.
Steady heart of earth Reaches always for what she Cannot have; the stars.
Flame in the belly Of the earth. Not a mountain When it awakens
Stones once trod by gods, Their sacred mountain slumbers In death, killed by time.
Cloud-bedecked summit. Berated by shrieking winds, but it shall not bow.
Insurmountable Or not; for some it may be. To know you must climb.
I think some people are meant only to want. To see the life they planned so clearly before them, and then to watch, year after year slip by, raindrops on a windshield that keep coming faster than the one before,
By Chloë J.4 years ago in Poets
