Three peaks standing too close together.
Identically different.
Looking past me to a horizon more distant.
I lean against a grave and consider the challenge.

I would fire a warning shot,
but for fear of an avalanche.
Three giants crouching around my mortal.
In their shadow these legs won't carry me,
and these hands will not lead the way.

Star shine shall never find me.
I will live beneath the mountains in their cloak.
I am like a king.
My crown holds me back from true power.

GRAHAM MURPHY