There's a mountain where I don't want to go.
I've been there once.
I never want to lay my eyes upon it again.
Behind the mountain stood
the only chance I had to save a life.
It stood in front of me, and I cried.
I knew I had to climb it.
I couldn't go around it.
I put my hands to the rocks and climbed.
I went higher, higher, higher.
The wind pushed and yelled at me,
Whispering in my ear,
You won't make it, you won't make it.
I ground my teeth against the chill,
"I have to, I have to, I can't fail, I have to."
At the top, I had to stop.
I'd gone so far, it seemed fine to rest.
My goal was close.
My life was close.
I could make it.
I could save a life.
But I had to rest.
So I turned my eyes away from the terrible black valleys bellow,
And closed them tight.
To wake up in such a horrible place,
Is to wake up in a nightmare.
As soon as my eyes opened,
I was standing up.
Looking down, trying to find my way.
No trail, no rope, no guide.
But still, I ran as fast as I could,
Down the slope to where I could save him.
The wind followed me on an invisible horse,
yelling at me to turn back,
You can't make it. You should not have rested.
I fell, down, down, down,
Into the black valley.
Cutting my face and hands and knees.
Calling out his name, calling for him.
Tears choked me, I couldn't find him.
I stumbled onward.
The only light came from the dying sun.
My hands felt through the cold grass,
My feet touching the earth gently,
Weak eyes searching.
Broke into a run,
Screaming, crying, sprinting.
Knowing he was nearby.
Couldn't find him.
Couldn't touch him.
Couldn't save him.
Reaching into the darkness,
The wind grabbed my hand,
And pulled me away.
It cradled me in its cold, unsteady arms,
and whispered in my ear,
You didn't make it.