Mountains

The swift, cold wind pierces my clothes 
It whistles in my ears and quiets outside voices 
There are no more voices 
  
I can see for endless miles 
As if the far away is very near 
My future now is fully clear 
  
The rocks, they shift beneath my feet 
As if my weight too much to bear 
  
A pebble falls from my horizon 
On a journey to a place unknown 
  
The time for rest and wait is over 
The wind begins to blow just slightly colder 
I am in one place no longer 
  
My legs move in labored bounds 
My ears no longer hearing sounds 
A quiet rush as I leave the ground 
  
Weightless at last, my gaze descends 
A calming peace my full defense 
A full release, it never ends 

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm mostly a story-writer and certainly no expert on poetry, so I read this for the tale it tells, the imagery it conjurs, and the feelings it produces. In those respects, it works very well.

[Mystery Harwood]

i find your rhyme scheme interesting, though i'm not personally big on rhymes. but i'm wondering if you changed up your rhythm purposely? it catches the reader off guard, a little. if it is intentional, you might want to add some more oomph to your imagery, to match the shock of it. if not, you might consider smoothing the rhythm out. but your piece definitely evokes a haunted feeling. nice work!