Climbing rocks
Gripping shards of past
And present
The future is at the bottom
With my death
The top
Is an ever inpiring journey
Bleeding hands to show
The way
Fearing heights
Never looking down
And the salt is stinging
Wind is blowing rain
My hide is my shelter
And bleeding on
Climbing rocks
Bigger than life
Skeletons etched in stone
Of past and present
Bleeding hands
Trickling into cracks along the way
Cutting paths
For souls to breathe
My death
For souls to breathe
