How do you
Come to know
That you’ve been drifting away
From yourself?

You listen
To the echoes
Of your voice growing scarcer
By the year,

And perhaps
You have lost
The will to make that very call
Or answer.

The mountain
Is far now
There's no other way to return
But to search

But how do
You conclude
That you’ve been on a descent
Down to earth?

You look back
And wonder
“Did that mountain of your deeds
Weigh its worth?”