A life is a ladder.
A hole is to dig.
Everyone must climb up or down.

Your back aches just to stand,
It hurts bad.
You remember meals and women,
You got so close to,
But never had.

But your Life is a ladder,
or so said the King,
as he ordered you
to cling to the rung.

It's quiet out here
if you don't make a move,
If don't lose your mind,
Forget superstitions,
And you keep your groove.

All there is is the climb,
Said Peter the Great,
Their love is their strength,
Their weakness is hate.
Tomorrow morning this time
I will have already crossed
Their biggest river,
You can join me for wine.
Or you can die on your own.

The climb,
The Cimb,
There is only the climb,
And the edge of your most true desire.

Genius lives in the dimes.
You choke the grim air and
Kneel
To the heavens,
And because you can no longer stand.

And
You hack.
You spit.
You crawl and look for the dimes.

Finally,
You collect them,
And stand to spit again.

You walk up to the counter and buy.

I'd put on a pilgrim's mantel,
Journey along to the far wild;
Break through thorny thickets
And twigs across the wilderness,
To where humans dwell not,
To a world of savage animals;
Right through jaws of death,
Trudge through barren valleys,
Cimb soaring mountains before me,
Dash through mystique woods,
Woods darker than a lonely grave;
Whilst buffeted by wild branches,
Wend along wildest river banks,
Where early boughs grow wild and rank,
Stumble through murky waters,,
See beyond bounds of mortal men,
Trudge yonder a wide strange plain,
To fair lands of the emeralds,
Where dawn songbirds perpetually
Croon nature's symphonies,
Where trumpeters, taborers
Harpists and fiddlers
Play the loveliest melodies,
Soothing melodies trapped
In proverbial winds of time,
Where the meanest castle pillar
Is not of silver
But of fairest gold.
A realm of only beauty to behold,
A realm of everlasting youth,
A realm of opalescent skies,
A realm where the sun doth rise,
In the sheer corner of paradise
Just to catch a glimpse
At thy physiognomy
*Only if I could