dirt in the spaces between degraded 
slabs of stone with ridges
irks me as I make my ascent
past each step on this stairway
often trodden by meandering
pilgrim warriors on their way
to prey on carnal, bookish, 
social, lonely godly ware. 

peachy grains of fallen 
alpine giants interrupt my blind and 
thoughtless trek, sparring with my naked, 
bloody, bruisèd feet.  Far too long since last i've gathered 
'round a nomad fire with pilgrim friends about.  
All I do is stare with awe at new companions,
crumbling lonely gothic walls. Vagrant birds entreat me to look up
away from wounded feet, singing doleful arias out
from their abodes, perched upon protruding martial turrets. 

blinded by my hasty pace i finally arrive atop the pinnacle
and stare about not knowing what i seek and stare up 
at the sky to see a tempest brewing and stare below with lonely eyes
to wonder where i'll hide.