Mountaineers are scaling Mount Eternity,
wearing boots, of countless illusory days.
Hands to palpate of "Dawn's" first light,
are covered by gloves of determination, that
A tree grows tall and proud,
Reaching its branches towards the sky,
as if in prayer to God above,
it lets out a mighty cry.
On wings of tomorrow, they fly
on canes of wood we walk. Ahhh,
the sweet sadness of youth. For,