The mountain fascinates me, towering and large,
Someday it will succumb, to my incessant march!
I conquered it early, and then turned desolate,
Each summer staring down the abyss, at failure straight.
The mountain looks puny, I've climbed it before,
Peak memories cast shadows, on limbs that are sore.
Arriving on the precipice, triumphant and alone,
At one with the mountain, I've turned to stone.
The mountain is my cross, can I venture beyond?
Can I move to the second mountain, via shangri la pond?
This mountain has shaped me, to make me tall is its aim,
Molded in its image, am I doomed to be the same?
Rediscovering myself, exploring what it feels,
Chipping on Goliath, the David reveals!
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