The winds are blowing viciously;
the cold is slicing through.
Razor sharp, it cuts the flesh
to shreds in its exposure.
Yet somehow, he withstands
and climbs again, to reach the
falling heights. Passion unidentified;
a rage for too long left repressed.
Of this, he's built a strength set on
achieving the impossible.
Endless journey without any
Movements of intensity without a variation.
"Be a man! Withstand the pain. Don't
ever cry out loud." Conditioning so hard
and cruel, that says his human heart
must be unreal.
Yet now he sees a misty image,
standing all alone - there, just at the
summit. Shining like the warmth of
summer sun. Beckoning, she leads
him on and on. When will he ever
reach the loving warmth of her
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...