all he has to do
is hold on
keep on moving
head up
there is a finish line ahead
so many years
of moving towards
what felt like
emptiness
farther into the void
into the ever expanding maw
of eternally ever after
the end of the rainbow
another fickle lie
told by those
with the riding crops
the silver lining
a fresh spool
of razor wire
hidden
in the expanses of hope
yet maybe
the cyclical nature
of cynicism
was the true lie
that paradise
does rest
just on the other side
of the mountain
so he scales it
eyes wide
heart hammering his chest
the slow trickle
of new found excitement
pushing him on
one painful step
at a time