i slowly grasp
jagged rocks in my hands, one by one,
taking heavy breaths as I go,
climbing with force,
Not able to fathom slipping.
my pace quickens
i scale the looming rock- higher and higher
but I never listened to the doubts
of my worried, frantic comrades
From their small stance, on the ground
maybe if i
never climbed so high
reached so far
i would be at the top of the mountain.
Never seeking more, because I would already have everything.
maybe if i
never drove it forward
only took it slow
i would not be at the bottom of the mountain
slowly losing myself, along with my fallen love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem