For The Fallen

One last act, one last victory…

I glance forward, the hill I climb a mountain. 
As child, a mountain it is- the climb an adventure.
As man, t'is but a hill. 
And as elder, a mountain again, a test for aging bones and clouded eyes. 
I am here to climb this mountain- to see the top and revel in the triumph,
As one would do as a child. 
My sword has rusted away in failing hands, 
My armor has rotted away in dark rooms,
My brazen anger has given way to contentedness,
My fight has left me for younger days. 
But this mountain looms, it laughs at me and mocks me. 
It sees my struggle as I climb, climb, pull myself up.
And so I do not quit, I do not let go of the edge and join the fallen,
I do not back down from the tremble of the Earth's mockery. 
I climb. 
I heave my aging bones and clouded eyes to the top. 
A spark gives way to fire,
I will climb this mountain, and it will be the last thing I do.
The very last thing.  
Leave rusted blade and rotted armor, pass that fight to younger days. 
I will climb this mountain, 
For The Fallen. 

Author's Note

I may be 15, and I may not get out much, but I wanted to capture that pure will. The need to emerge victorious in that last, final act.