I climbed.
I climbed and I climbed.
The mountain was tall.
The weather was harsh.
The silence was deafening.
Many times I had wanted to die.
But I wanted never gave up.
So I climbed.
I got to the top.
And waiting for me there...
was nothing
YOU ARE READING
Sometimes I Write Poems, Sometimes I Write Songs
RandomA collection of everything I've written to be posted on theprose.com. Between short stories and poetry, I think too much.
