The Weight of Heights

They called him a child of the sky, a storm-born spark, a rising sun His steps were light, his hands were quick, he climbed before he learned to run The world below had sung his name, its voices laced with awe and might You’ll reach the peak they whispered low, where all the stars align in light He climbed through fire, through fractured bone, through sleepless nights that burned like day And at the top, at last, he swore there’d be no farther left to stray But summits blur, and clouds deceive, each height unfolds another gate Above him, figures loomed like wraiths, their flesh decayed, yet climbed for weight. And so he clings, too proud to fall, too lost to chase another flight. He wonders if the climb was worth a life spent fearing a lesser height.