Hannah Lynch – Summit

I stand at the foot of the pinnacle

Lungs burning as I breathe the frigid pain

Air piercing my skin like icicles

But alone in its shadow I must remain


Eyes straining against the howling gale

Skin bleeding against the subzero cold

My feet slip as I tread upon scree and shale

Longing for the security of the path of old


I turn and stare at the path traveled, knowing that only waste remains there

Gritting my teeth, I strive up that slope steepening

For I have traversed too far to escape the mountain’s hypnotically thin air

I pay no mind to the aches and pains deepening

Although each step reminds me that I am alone in this perpetual Nowhere

But I am still striving for the rarity I pray I am reaching


Slipping, I press myself flush against the unyielding behemoth

Heaving and praying to the god within it that it will not let me fall

Just so I may, for one moment, peer over its mysterious zenith

And upon its unconquerable pinnacle I may stand victoriously tall

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