Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

The Erratum

Knuckles cracking while
The sweat pours feverishly
Down my brow and lands,
Quivering, upon my feeble fingers.
"Forgive me," I mumble to the invisibles
That control the light and the dark.
"For everything," I beg into the
Twilight of forever promises.
I wander the desert, like some
Side-winding snake devoid of meal
And hope in the unbearable heat.
When the chance to redeem myself
Makes itself known, I will
Be too weak to admit my blunders, to
Discuss my trials, to define my errors,
And to awaken the lessons
That hide within every mistake ever made.


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The Erratum

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