It was the worst kind of day to be lost and

alone on a mountain.

Through clouds, passion madness of smoke.

Waves thrashed the sides, unrelenting even.

They pounded against the sharp, sleek rocky edge.

As a warning, an alert to the wildlife to flee in a hurry.

The eagle's soaring high above.

Through the dense, thick cotton candy clouds clouding the sky.

A dreamlike candy-coated raindrops.

What candy melts the ground beneath.

Adjust my eyes to see it's the worst day to be lost and alone on a mountain.

Is it not candy at all, yet an alluring glimpse of flying Jasper stone.

The sleeping mountain awoke into a flow of magma.

The mountains' roar released the steaming eruption of a slumbering volcano.

Hidden blanketed under a mountain cover. Now lava flowed.