I once peered over the mountain's cliff in search of truth..
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But for such sight one must bask in the fountain of youth.
Now my once wide window appears to shrink still smaller..
I've since developed a fear, my mountains grown taller.
My forming house is hollow as I lay the mortar.
In the pool I do not wallow but build the boarder..
Knowing I can not dwell in dream here forever more..
For soon the familiar caller will break down the door.
My mind's better judgement is not an optimistic.
If inclined I'd not lament but stay unrealistic.