They sit alone on the highest mountain,
rejecting the world around;
While nature sings its lovely songs,
they barely hear a sound.

The wind caresses the budding trees,
the summer flowers are in bloom;
But vacant souls and shallow hearts,
comfortably reside within the gloom.

Their motto is to take--not give,
and flaunt their hollow success;
While hurting all they claim to love,
and shedding each honored quest.

Now they're humbled by the night,
in the cold and bitter rain;
These trembling skeletons of regret,
now left alone assessing blame.

If only they'd reach out to God,
where forgiveness lies within;
But with the pride of shattered wills,
they simply turn away in shame.