Worshipers At the Mountains of Madness

Worshippers at the Mountains of Madness Worshipers at the Mountains of Madness zealots seeking kinship of distant god await the searing wind of cold duress tattered clothe - torn robe - beggars now unshod clutch thinning air in folded hands of doubt beseeching of the peaks the madness there blind seekers panning gold - veins long run out follow deep crevasse of lingering fear. Yet, lost amid frigid glistening peak resides a hidden truth as yet unthawed that they must coax the frozen voice to speak and listen to its truth however flawed. Cold peaks, those bell-less towers, should incite rebellion in the eyes awakened sight. 5/17/2016 submitted to – At the Mountains of Madness – Poetry Contest sponsor – Timothy Hicks