Thursday, November 11, 2010

His Mountain

Drenched and deformed.
His essence smothered his memories mere nostalgia in the rays of days gone past.
He trampled and walked, he stumbled and grabbed.
He reached and begged he cried, urged and prodded.

He tried to make every day his best and succeeded nigh on never.
He tried to make the rest of his existence hell, and happiness found him.

He climbed the mountain and halfway up passed the clouds.
He looked around; he kicked a rock and saw the dust in the sunlight over the cloud beneath.
He was never aware of how far he’d come, as down was as close as cloud.
He saw only that the distance up seemed less important when he could not measure the distance down.

The landscape was barren up here.
He brought nothing to drink, yet never felt the thirst anymore.
He brought no power in a book in a pocket.
Yet…. he never felt this relieved. 

His veins pumped, his temples pounded.
His muscles ached and his tendons cramped.
His lungs grasped at the thin air in the pages of what was left to learn.
His brain was tired, hungry and needed the presence of others like it.

He sat down, remembered a red bus, angry words….. and smiled.
Sweat trickled through his emotions, blood rippled through his skin.
His mind was a sunrise, his emotions dawn.
Spirituality became his enemy, knowing his thoughts, owning them, respecting and chasing their dreams and desires, became his soul.

A life lived in a dream was gone, and the next fantasy had begun.

As he gazed over his sweat and dust covered arms, folded over knees.
He saw the fluffy white expanse.
Sitting on the side of his mountain.
Looking over the empty future.

He had his mountain behind him and knew neither side too well.
As he stretched the aches out in a motion of ease never before felt, guilt made a tiny ripple through him, as he knew the rest to come will be the best.
And can only be better than that behind.

He asked and wondered;
How do you waste a life?
How do you throw away time?
Needing no answer as experts often don’t.

He stretched further up his mountain, asking no mercy or forgiveness from a book.
No help to walk.
Just thankful for the steps, that shows the future and feeds his mind. 

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