High and Low

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The Mountain that wished to dance,

Had always envied the sky.

Pleading for a glance,

But never truly knowing why.

 

Making friends among the dirt,

And spreading rumors to the trees,

Was never enough to ease the hurt,

That pleasured the whims of thieves.

 

However small was the pain,

Of visitors passing by,

Witnessing the drops of rain,

And the Mountain that loved to lie.

 

But when the rocks refused to kill,

The wind laughed in the quiet.

Knowing that life preferred the hill,

But was no stranger to the riot.