As vast as the eye can see are mountains rising
Like festering sores of a bloated corpse
A God, perhaps, sunken deep in the dirt
A long-dead thing that may harbor life
Like pieces of itself, bubbling over to live again
Cells of the past, embodied anew
Rising to the clouds, aspired by the Spirit
The mountains know naught 'cept from which they came
Carried up as fragments of a whole
With remnants of their past as that from which they came
And so we climb up here, devoid of fear
Hoping to conquer something within
Envious of the clouds, we are full and proud
But against the mountains, we will never win
Reminiscent of what we once were,
Like flesh to imitate a God
And to the view of dirt rising to the sky
Ever so closely in touch with the Spirit,
What are we to do, weighted by condescension?
We climb these mighty peaks of Earth
So to be a man's length closer than them
To the Spirit that we envy so
And having come so high, we feel a flicker of God's true power
Moments 'fore realizing we are small, lost, and alone
