The Decent

Deep in melancholy fields I sit. Heavy with the thought, I'm pinned in place The past, present, future wrestle in silence A hill of happiness rises in the distance—out of reach, yet inviting I notice that both sides are longer than the apogee My legs tremble, not from the height but from fear Fear of short-lived joy Each step echoes in the silence I've made peace with The steepness of the climb measured only by the memories holding me back Past happiness pushes me forward Every step is a battle, envisioning what the top must feel like and knowing the eventual fall I carry the weight of almost and what ifs like stones in my pocket The wind whispers names I've buried, moments I still mourn But somewhere above, sunlight touches me—and for a second, I remember warmth Yet warmth flickers and fades I'm chasing a feeling that never is enough There's always more at stake, more moments to have The gluttonous nature of happiness leaves me drained I yearn for rest. To sleep I fight myself to keep going, even though I long to stop The hours pass so quickly I can hear Father time hum To live life is to see what is next At the top, the feeling is the same as in the valley stuck between memory and hope The only difference is the view; the future is clearer when seen with happiness Part of me still wonders if stillness is surrender Another part whispers "maybe stillness is strength" This never-ending climb is for a glimpse of tomorrow Revealing the mountains waiting beyond Why can't I sit atop this one forever? enjoy this view? Even when I reach the peak, I know the descent awaits After seeing what lies ahead, knowing that there's always more to climb This time I'll stop enjoy the view and wont carry so much weight down with me on this descent