Hand Mountain

The mountain is now made up of hands the meek huddle under the shelter of the moon an effected lake brings snow too soon staring across the mountain sands I trust the ache in my gut to be righteous sweat begins to condensate on my brow rumours abound in my self conscience i know everything, but nothing now the mountain lady pursues me for my skill i tread across the beaten path of hands like the harsh shriek of the electric trill i have overloaded my sweat glands "the task is upon you, young man" the mountain lady said as I ran.