The frail mountain looks for a place to build its empire.

Perhaps upon an elevation of gold and sapphire.

But first it must stand the test of time,

Battling the very earth that breathes it life.

Waiting for the ground to change its mind.

Turning gracefully into a startling shade of lime.

But these colours take centuries to come,

Only visible through the broken eyes of the glowing sun.

First you must taste the bitterness of the mud.

Thirsting for happiness to grow in you, like a seedling sprouting a bud.

You wait, resilient mountain, for your chance to touch the sky.

And regardless of the time it takes, you’ll never question why,

A glorious delusion built on a cushioned lie.