The Mountain

Climbing.
Its not easy.
Conquering the unknown and deserted territory of this rock,
it is nearly impossible.
But when your eyes are on the top, and your heart is set with it,
Difficulty is not an object.

The first half, speeding up.
Stumbles along the cobbled path,
but overall, success.
…
The second half begins.

Expecting the same,
but nowhere near,
running through exceedingly confidently;
you trip for your first time.

Its not huge — but it is monumental.
Monumental in the worst.
Shock of loss is not only a problem,
but a standby.
Working through this, however,
you press on.

But this is only the first of many problems.
Skinned knees,
Broken limbs,
and a broken heart.
The latter is destructive.

For each time you fall, it hurts,
but moving on hurts more.
Knowing you might be walking into a trap,
falling into the grave you dug yourself,
makes it all the more difficult.
But wasn't difficulty not an object?

Everytime you build up the strength to move on again,
The higher you get, but the more you slip.
The higher you climb, the harder you fall,
the more you build yourself up, the more you tear yourself down.

You subconsciously start to realize –
the climb is too high.
Your heart was set on illusion,
and others are still fixed on it.
Strength does not matter.
Heart does not matter.
You do not matter.

Fate has been predetermined.
The room on the top you so desperately wanted,
what you dreamed, aspired and hoped for –
is not there.
You cannot climb this mountain.

What once seemed a brilliant, beautiful, and mysterious heaven,
now has no secrets.
With no hidden surprise, no magical meaning.
There is no silver lining.

Stranded on your ledge of broken aspirations,
bleeding hearts and lost dreams:
you realize:
difficulty is an object.
You have not conquered this mystical rock:
it has conquered you.

-Rob