There are times when I look down from the mountain of my past,
And cast my gaze over roads that I had taken,
I worry and I wonder if my course was always true,
Were there routes I used I should have forsaken?
And I call out my questions to the valley below,
The echos returning with no answers,
My fortunes have faded with the shadows of the sunset,
Like the failing legs of a time ravaged dancer,
But as I stand upon the precipice where the future meets the past,
And outcast in a world that shows no mercy,
An avalanche of silence stops my forage down the slopes,
I'm afraid that if I speak no one will hear me
Copyright; EGHarne
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