I remember sitting on top of the mountain,
Sitting and staring somewhere into nowhere,
Looking around all compass points,
Looking at the silent granduer of the other mountains,
Looking down the path that brought me here,
Looking down on the insidious city I had escaped.

I dropped my head, not worthy to behold
Such sights, though my mind played on.

The portion of the world at my fingertips,
All that which I could see,
Humbled me.

I did not conquer the mountain,
I climbed it.
Climbing the mountain did not exalt me,
It humbled me.