Raise the ******* high
to salute the fairness of life,
a signal to the clan of the world;
to those blameless few,
content to merely pass through,
it becomes a warning
to those other wretched ones.

The fur and pelt of clothes
becomes a second skin,
animals on the mountain once more;
half covered by white curses
bodies pocketed in snow,
the chilling embrace of eternal season,
reaches all that know
and are deeply felt in the bones,
by brethren and coven alike.

It is the flag of Everest
to mark how far we have come;
ignore the scar tissue
hunger pangs and brokenness
and climb upward to find a perch,
as thin breath of the lungs remains.

Come out from the caves
and seek your mantle;
where others have fallen,
from the towering heights.
Despite the consuming frost-bite,
the finger remains on the tallest peak,
as a cross to bless other weary pilgrims.