The mountain’s dangers draws a few strange souls,
a rocky climb, full of deep dread of death,
yet calling those who live to test their worth.
What is this passion that inspires those souls?
They seek the pure, icy and glacial paths,
cold places few have seen and fewer touched.
Their world is odd. I wonder why they roam
like mountain goats manque, mad, testing God.
Their lives suspended by thin ropes and hooks,
dangling like leaves besieged by autumn frosts,
they just might fall, cascading down the cliffs
till they become the frozen acts of hubris,
the mountain’s call of sacrificial wrath.
And yet they climb and climb into the clouds.