No one said it would be this heavy.
Our feet, the silence; the spectacle,
No one said it would be this beautiful.
Our eyes, the lights, the risks
Of being let down ahead, in life, into snow.
Are you going on ahead? Does your pack tire you?
We shouldn't separate now, not much longer.
Over hills, over rivers,
over caves below our feet where dark things dwell.
Under branches, under stars,
Under the sun burning away on the horizon.
I'm glad we're staying the course.
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