The Final Ascent

Born with burdens, ripped from the womb,

A child emerged from a mother’s tomb.

A conqueror from birth, with peaks to claim,

But bound by pain, without a name.

From the start, he knew his fate,

A body broken, a mind filled with hate.

He wore his scars, both deep and wide,

Hiding the anguish he felt inside.

Life kept moving, time passed by,

But love and warmth, he’d never try.

He sealed away all tender things,

Chose the silence that isolation brings.

Delusion followed every step,

Happiness was a lie, except for death.

He knew it all—love, lust, despair,

Yet found no solace, no one to care.

For eight long years, his grave he planned,

A final exit, his only demand.

The bell of death, he chose to ring,

Announcing his end with no joy to cling.

So now he walks, his path is set,

To the peak of life, a fate to be met.

No one can follow where he will tread,

A journey to peace, where none are led.

A debt to all, he leaves behind,

Of love, betrayal, and those unkind.

With gratitude, he turns to go,

Toward the quiet end, the final flow.

The summit waits, the end is near,

The only destination he holds dear.

He thanks the pain, the love, the strife,

And returns the gift of a broken life.