Storms are raging...

There is a mountain placed before me. It's wide, big; high above the clouds. With no way around it; no choice about it. Just to climb it, even through low sighs. Some mountains, I chose myself. Often those are quite easy to climb. They leave no bruise; I step on them like crumbs. No sweat, no fuss. But also no valuable lesson. Just an excuse after an excuse. There are harsh sessions on the high mountain. No breaks, no fountains. Just hardships and rough times. No awards, no rewards. Just emotional, mental tides and fines.

He has become a destiny with no back covers. With his back against the wall. His back totally exposed to all. But, step by step, day by day, with his veins, he climbs up but not in vain. Some days he wants to go back to his fortress. Some days he only sees black, no success. But, after a while, mounting in grime, he forgets about the pain. The hardships start to fade and he seeks to become one with isolation. In isolation, he starts to rely on himself more. He learns to love all his sores; to trust his own instincts. In the end, he reaches the top. Out of it all, he comes out unbreakable, alive. Tired but, surely, revived.