Beyond the reach of mortal ground,

Where silence wears a golden crown,

A soul ascends, not to claim,

But to seek the source of its own flame.

What is the light that blinds the sky?

A question framed, a whispered why.

Not answers waiting, but paths untread,

Through fire’s glow and shadow’s thread.

To stand alone where few would go,

Is to meet the self you do not know.

For in the vastness, the soul lays bare,

Its fragile hope, its quiet despair.

The climb is endless, the peak unseen,

The truth resides where dreams convene.

Neither in the stars, nor in the blazing hue,

But in the heart that dares pursue.

It is neither conquest, nor the end divine,

But the gaze inward, the steady line.

To rise is to fall, to burn, to mend,

To find in the infinite, yourself as a friend.