The Moth and the Candle

The view from the hill is panoramic and awesome
It inspires and takes breath in equal measure
Standing alone, it does not feel lonely
Everything is before you, laid out at your feet
But you are just a speck, a mite for the asking
No foreshadowing giant are you, here or there
And the hill still looks down, brooding and basking
In light or in dark it will stand and will stare

Even as you think these thoughts and dwell on them further
You still stand on the brow and wonder why and where
You belong now in your new vista and order
Of the world and all of its separate beings
Gaze down on the works of the mighty and the meek
Fleeting or lasting, they all end the same
Crumbled, ignored, forgotten or blasted
The view from the hill is a view filled with pain