Hear the clock ticking on the wall...

The abyss was awake, and its entire population was stirring, some to flee, some to investigate, but many, all too many, to feed. Fish with fangs came. Bulbous bloated creatures came. Shelled monsters with massive jaws came. Things that defied description came. Every form or shape that stalked the nightmares of a child lurked there in the deep, and they all descended on him, no eyes to see, but many mouths to taste. 

Deal with all this, and find ways to live with myself? I honestly don't know if I can do that. If I'm strong enough to deal with the pressures of going through life with integrity. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. They gaze up at me, and I look them in the eyes and they taunt me, almost making me fall into the void. Sometimes I wish I would just let myself fall. But I don't. Not yet at least. I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?

Neverland is home to lost boys like me...

Not sure I can take it...

The summit is believed to be the object of the climb. But its true object - the joy of living - is not in the peak itself, but in the adversities encountered on the way up. There are valleys, cliffs, streams, precipices, and slides, and as he walks these steep paths, he may think he cannot go any farther, or even that dying would be better than going on. But then he resumes fighting the difficulties directly in front of him, and when he is finally able to turn and look back at what he has overcome, he finds he has truly experienced the joy of living while on life's very road.