Hovering overhead in a wisp of obscurity,
The ghost of what transpired between us
Sinks into cold gray crevices.
Echoes of what you once were to me,
(Or lesser, what I was to you),
Reverberate about the stonecold mass.
Lover's refrain twists to funeral dirge,
Cherished words a mournful requiem,
Whipped in frenzy in howling terrains.
A sickness creeps over you, and I
Cringe and shrink from it's overspill.
While climbing the jagged edge,
And taking me, your foothold, for granted,
A lesson was lost.
Love is not only for summits and successes,
It should permeate every breathless, tested, aching
Crag along the way.
I cannot be your sherpa, nor your loyal beast.
When you peak it will be alone,
I gave up and camped in solitude,
The glow from that little stove the most warmth
I've felt in an eternity of futile trekking.