If I had to crawl to get over that hill,
Sun-baked earth is scorching, my resolve still.
Muscles scream protest, a battle of wills,
But the summit beckons, with unseen thrills.

With each difficult inch, a victory was won,
Ignoring the whispers, the race to be done.
Sweat stings my eyes, a temporary plight,
For the vast panorama, bathed in sunlight.

Hands gripping the gravel, a desperate plea,
But the fire within whispers, "You will be free."
And finally, gasping, I crest the rise,
The world laid before me, a glorious prize.
If I had to crawl to get over that hill