The Journey Up

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Life is like a mountain path, ever twisting and turning, ever dangerous.

Submitted: October 18, 2015

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Submitted: October 18, 2015

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 Life is like a mountain path. It twists and turns, rising ever higher and higher, touching the sky. The path is never perfectly clear, it is muddy and hidden from sight on occasion. Other times you must forge your own path, clearing away the brush and continue the climb to the summit. Sometimes the path dips or gives way and you fall. You fall and tumble down the unforgiving slope, wildly trying to grasp something, anything. Anything that will stop your descent down the mountain back to the beginning, back to the foot of the mountain. 
 When we fall we don’t always get right back up, we lie in pain, in pain trying to blame something. To blame the path for not being steady and strong, to blame it for not being clear, to blame it for suddenly giving way and letting you fall, fall far down the mountainside and coming to a painful rest at the bottom. We lie in the pain and suffering and look for the way out. The end of it all, the end of the pain, the suffering and the failure. 
 On our climb there are things that we cannot control. We walk and are blindsided by a sudden mudslide, that knocks us down, covers us in the filth and we are forced to slog through it all and keep climbing. We walk and suddenly a rock slide blocks the path. We must overcome this new obstacle, we must clear the path, or we must climb over the rubble, or we must forge a new, stronger, safer path with our our own bare hands for the path laid out by others was not strong enough nor safe enough. We must build our own path. 
 This climb will always be an uphill battle, a constant fight. The only rest shall be when we reach the summit, our journey done. The mountain conquered and we can look back down the the rocky, muddy, deadly side and see all the things we overcame, we see all the others who continues their own climbs trying to make it to the summit. We see the skeletons of those who lost their climb, their fight. 
 We must not give in. We must climb. We must adapt and overcome. We must conquer the mountain and make it ours. We must plant our flag on its summit, to show the world we have made it. We have conquered the mountain. We have won.


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