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?