Dropping down to knees of ash
And mud.
Further depths all reached and probed.
So much easier to recall than peaks of
Snow-capped friends and yet,
CONTROL-ALT-DELETE fails me once again.

Though through the mire:

On one darkened night,
A flash of sound to my left,
Moments of clear sight.

Thus, I stand up strengthened
And with eagle brethren fly
To visit long-lost hermit sages of high-rise times,
In their mountain caves.
Upon arrival, my questions are forgotten.

All through the mire.