Just beneath the sighing of the wind, I can hear my ragged breaths,
And there is a chill so strong that it numbs my very soul.
I have journeyed for years like this, giving no voice to my grief,
The dark thoughts inside, my only company.

Up the throat of the mountain, I climb, trying to reach the peak,
But my arms are tired and numb, destined to fail me.
A scream echoes forth and ice falls from above.
It threatens to crush me 'neath the weight of unconquered grief.

But somewhere inside I found a strength I'd thought had died,
And I managed to endure this wretched snowfall.
With newfound calm I clamber on, ignoring aching arms.
With all my mightI journey on, desperate to see the light.

At the peak, I sit and rest, for my journey is done.
Now I see, for myself, the majesty of the sun.

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