There before me lay a road

Not unlike the rest

It bobbed and weaved through hill and heath

Endlessly it stretched

But the secret of this road

Was not in where it stopped

But that it branched a smaller path

That led to mountaintops

A road less traveled made me grin

I knew of this cliche

Yet there I was, alone in stride

Upon that autumn day

I never turned to check behind

To see where I had walked

For now before me stood a peak

The prey that I had stalked

The misty Irish countryside

Left a treacherous climb

For if I let my footing slip

To the bottom I would slide

With dripping clothes and battered hands

I proudly took that peak

Then turned to see how far I’d come

To bask in victory

But now the only scenery

The purpose of this climb

Was clouds stretched out before me

I had climbed above the sky

In my eagerness to scale

This country’s tallest rock

I had failed to notice

Subpar weather near the top

Instead of unobstructed views

Of where I’d come along

I was an island, in a sea

Of dense tumultuous fog

It had a beauty of its own

Of that I can’t deny

But what’s the point of climbing shit

If people can’t see why?