The Mountain and the Battlefield

The Mountain

Before him it rises,
Seeming impassible
Like an out of shape
ancient man at the foot
of Half Dome's face,
Yet as a child as well,
Staring in wonder at its
Unique awefulness.
The mountain is the future
The becoming of all those who pursue
That draw near,
That live belief.
The mountain is the plan
Of the Pursued, the Beloved.
The Trusted.
Only He knows the way,
The hidden path
The ever-new adventure.

The Battlefield

Standing alone
Never alone
Field of one and ones
United, separated.
Some beat down and battered,
Seeking shelter only to find,
they brought their tent on their own backs.
Though truly they desire the strong tower.
Others, staring
Down the enemy
Rapers, pillagers, murderers.
Light billowing, escaping their souls via their body.
The sprint in pursuit to regain lost ground
Trailing behind vapors of light,
Refreshing, emboldening the weak.
And the enemy comes,
Not from the other side of the valley,
But from beneath, from within.
Invisible, the roar like a train
Shrieking, ready to rend
Prepared to pursue
Claws sinking deep
Having found the hole in the wall,
The chink in the armor,
The heel of Achilles.
The strong are few,
But the Strength is one
The Strength has won.