Am on top of this high mountain
Breeze caress my temple
My head is light
At the end of it all,
Everyone loves whatever they do
This is the feeling you must cling on with your life.
It helps in moments of sadness
On my high mountain I can judge, the world beneath my feet,
In times of drizzling rain,
I think of the departed.
The thoughts clutch on me,
Like a prostitute on a high paying client’s dick,
Seductive words of gods,
Whom I accuse of neglecting their duty,
When the departed needed it most, makes tears roll down my cheeks
Petrichol bites my nose
The scent of renewal.
A king ascends to his throne long denied.