Climbing this tower

You never know what you got yourself into, not until you realized your journey hadn’t even begun yet. Not until you took a glimpse at the stone tower rising, breaking apart the mighty storm, even you, will have to weather through life. Not until you have to grit your teeth throwing all aching muscles into just chipping that tower with your well and worn picks not meant for a task so daunting, daring and unknowing to all, dangerous and downright unimaginable. Watching as others before you fall to their doom, because their will gave out! No not us, not the true beings of survival, not Wrath and not Envy not even Sloth will keep us down, the cockroaches meant to live their destiny reaching their apex! Not the ones born from the dust and bones of ancients before them, for they are flesh.. bones.. skin.. soul.. for they are Human.

Even though the mighty do fall the ones who serve man rise from ashes unknown; climbing their own towers of stone, slamming every inch of willpower into that stone flailing and grasping for any reprieve that follows this war we wage in our own hearts, in our own minds the war we set upon ourselves with cascading giants of old and storms lighting up the crevices in our heads broken, not by the monsters we have beset on all sides from outlying sources but by the monsters, demons we create, falsified faith bringing our minds together waiting for the right moment, but for many that moment won’t come. Watching more and more and more bodies fall into the void you’ve created, distance you’ll call it, but you’ve already climbed so far and so hard with all the will you’ve shown. The eyes closed while the giants still rage and roar above you, us. For they aren’t just screaming in rage but they are laughing with glee! At you and your futile attempts at climbing this mighty tower for no other mortal has dared gotten to its peak in centuries nay! Millennia, since the dawn these giants have peered from above wishing the ones below would even dare dream of scouring this mighty behemoth that we call Life! This tower is our road, our destiny and the one thing everyone manages to convince themselves of climbing someday, and while the bodies tumble so hard and so fast building piles so large below that which others may grasp the stone, for gods be damned! For the men of faith truly see that the giants themselves have even forsaken our sacred ancestry, yet still we climb because any longer in the Hel they’ve left us in and yet only our Wrath and Envy grow. Stabbing picks into that tower one by one. The mind can clear in the face of adventure and by all means I hope to grin like the madman I know I’ve grown to become.