Crossing the mountain pass.
Finding pieces of myself along the way.
The snow capped peaks reflect
nothing but the blank canvas
within my own thoughtless mind.
Crossing the mountain pass.
The drone of the engine
fills my ears saving me
from the bitter silence
of the solidarity I have found.
Crossing the mountain pass.
The lines in the road
dividing the lanes like I
have divided myself from
the bitter taste you have left.
Crossing the mountain pass.
The peaks fade behind me
as I near the destination I seek.
The last place I want to be.
The only place I'll ever go.
Home.
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