| The mountain kept a trove inside
|
| That was known only to the three
|
| Closest friends now that their greed
|
| Had burdened them with things to hide
|
| The entrance was a hidden window
|
| Punctured through a narrow vein
|
| To crawl inside as light would wane
|
| And come to pitch in caves below
|
| In secrecy, they would converge
|
| To split the rocks and mill to dust
|
| Revealing spoils within the crust
|
| From when those peaks had first emerged
|
| Blurred intent through eyes that stung
|
| Their fingers cut upon the slate
|
| While stale air would suffocate
|
| And sap the vigour from their lungs
|
| The taper’s flame was just enough
|
| To see each pick from fall to rise
|
| So desperate that they find their prize
|
| Before the wick would finally snuff
|
| But when one paused to heave a breath
|
| Their friend’s hand would conceal, it seemed
|
| Which caused a thought had something gleamed?
|
| And trust began to sense its death
|
| What if he knows that I saw?
|
| And what if he decides to strike?
|
| But what if it was nothing more
|
| Than light’s deceit and failing sight?
|
| From just a flicker in the mind
|
| The thought would twist, consume, then grow
|
| And with each wave, doubt would erode
|
| Til all he knew confirmed his bind
|
| Those ancient paths bore only fear
|
| That, left unchecked, had overflowed
|
| To shatter balance he had known
|
| As shrinking walls began to near
|
| In pebble’s bouncethe avalanche
|
| In falling dropthe bursting dam
|
| He gripped the pick, and looming, then
|
| Swung an arc that killed his friend
|
| He barely saw their third had fled
|
| As febrile haze evaporated
|
| And with it, certainty faded
|
| Abandoned now for churning dread
|
| Endless whispers from the void
|
| Each offering narration
|
| He searched the body frantically
|
| And begged for vindication |