The Mountain
High on a mountain, I lay alone;
Wishing for a new day to be born.
A cool breeze whispers in my ears,
"Why so many tears?"
The setting sun has yet to come;
Upset I am for what I've done.
I try to look in some other direction;
Somehow there is a misconception.
Over the mountain, there could be another plane;
Perhaps temples of doom - just the same.
But, I carry on living in the sun;
A real life awaiting to begin.