We played these games.
Lifted pictures frame by frame.
When death came to fetch me,
I tangled him in my web.

Smiled.

Contorted his arms and legs.

The messenger awoke,
To find his body beside a stone,
Unable to lift his spirit,
Unable to claim his throne.

While the hill was sleeping,
I carried my burdens without shame.

If I don’t reach the summit,
I only have myself to blame.