Mountain Top

An arresting gaze over soldered vastness

Volcanic sentinels, lords over a svelte greatness

Imaginations run wild, made of cold breath

And to die up here would be a death pointless;

Upon her head’s crowns the seasons vary

Mutable weathers’ muse, wistful, contrary

The mountain’s moods frighten a looming sun

Cut by dense cloud, made with Hun fury.

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