Living on the Edge

Gentle, capricious, awful, Wild.
Never the same for two months together
Ruthless in its passion and infinity divine
Tames even the grandest Gods of power

Alone, yet never lonely,
Tranquil and serene, beyond somewheres
The world was mine, mine only,
When I trekked to the Himalayas

I wandered along the malignant edges
I could feel the clouds, sky pierced and broken
I saw no bird, for I had grown wings
No song was sung, no word was spoken

With a backpack and the will to survive
Life was much more than money and religion
Living the life of a happy warrior
When footsteps end at the top of a mountain

To listen to the sounds of silence
To feel the sun and earth as my soul
To explore the untamed wilderness
I like to call it my pilgrimage

I stood, my eyes turned upward still
It was the realization of my free will
What is failure
What are mistakes
What am I afraid of
How do I find success
Everything is good enough
When I live on the edge
No more haste, no more scamp
For a moment I was Alexander Supertramp