Lost Mountain

What is there, when there is nothing?
What exists when everything becomes mist, blown away by every wind?
When your soul is ever-falling, does it beg for the ground to end its descent?
What is better, the endless abyss or a final conclusion?

What happens when you lose your way?
When the path you have travelled seems far behind you, where will you go?
Will you make a new path, or try to find your way back?
Is a soul with no compass forever lost?
If that compass is lost, what then will guide you?

My soul is trapped in an endless abyss.
The mind wanders, and emotions are ever-fleeting.
Love is neither absent nor present.
My spirit flies with the wind of the mountain-
Cold, yet seeking to guide the shivering to the warmth of the indoors.

The mountain is as beautiful as it is terrible.
Its wrath knows no limit.
The coldness of its wind chills the greatest beasts;
The fierceness of its snow makes all creatures flee.

Yet with its cold power, it holds a great promise.
When the snow lifts, new life abounds.
The melting of ice brings water a-plenty,
And life starts anew in the shadow of its peak.