The Power of the Doubtful Mind

Running up the side of a volcano

Struggling, striving only to meet my doom at the fiery center.

It’s as if everywhere there are sheets of gloom and toxic gas,

Thick with the blood of those whose lives have been lost at the hands of the volcano,

So murky none can see anything but burning storms.

Clutching onto this burning mountain, the only visible path is upward,

Straight up to the lightning geysers of burning earth,

Bursting forth in masses of untamable power as if dooms day itself were arrived.

The only way is to head toward the only perceivable brightness in this smog of toxins.

I know as I crawl through the burnt earth searing my skin each step of the way

That though my end lies at the top, I must ever keep striving toward the peak.

Because that is all I know, that is all I see, even if I must throw away my own limbs,

Even if I must tear myself apart I shall make it to the top,

If only to get consumed by the light show array of molten ore and rock

That splits the very atmospheres with its thunderous roar.

As I look up at the mouth of lava spilling over in cacophonous wrath,

I reach for the only light I can see, at the top.

Strong winds rush by whipping up fire and blood, all other sound is obliterated.

Only the blurring of electric lightning crashes through winds of fury,

Sending the volcano into a raging froth, belting forth the earth’s center,

Flourishes of fire, the heights of which reach the very heavens.

I reach and strain toward the terror, and though my skin is livid with flame,

And my lungs full with ash and fire, I must keep reaching,

For this is the only light I can see. 


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