The mountain that I want to climb
Rises through the veil of time;
The face of it is sheer and steep,
Beneath it lies a valley deep
Where lay the bones of those less wise
Who did aspire to the skies
With bad intent and full of pride,
Could not ascend but had to slide,
And now lay in a woeful heap,
A lesson for the rest to keep.
The rest a different story tell,
How from the gaping maw of hell,
They the ancient face did scale,
Aided by that ancient nail;
On it alone their hope suspend,
On it alone fully depend;
With every glance below they view
The end of those who did pursue
As though toward some mere human end
Which did on their own strength depend.
To reach the peak does not require
Fanciful human attire,
Nor for vain accomplishment
Was the bloody nail meant.
All this the climber leaves behind
And clings to a securer kind;
And dressed in pure intent he’s free
To climb into eternity.