The Mountain

I am a mountain, tall, rough, but alone,

With snow on my shoulders, my head held high,

Looking up to my god from my throne.

I wait for the sun to kiss me goodbye.

~

The wind here is cold; it is never warm.

The glow of morning, my only solace,

But the kiss that never came grew my storm.

Now, this mountain has become quite lawless.

~

I shake in sorrow, bitter, fixed in rage.

The need for company sadly denied.

These emotions, I can no longer gauge.

The mountain is no longer starry-eyed.

~

I will explode and take many more with me,

The sun will be the only escapee.