Sacred Mountain, poetry by Yucheng Tao at Spillwords.com

Sacred Mountain

Sacred Mountain

written by: Yucheng Tao

 

I. Dark Prologue

Walking through the hillside,
with a hiking bag slung over my shoulder
and a pair of dusty shoes, I feel the cold
seep into my bones, making me shiver.
The dim night, the howling wind. I drag my heavy feet,
continuing along the mountain’s flank.
My consciousness gradually fades,
blurring the boundary between reality and illusion.

 

II. Debris Narrative Piece

Perhaps I have returned to a reality
long buried in my memories.
My classmates turned my back into an ant’s paradise.
When their pranks crossed a certain point,
it felt as if an engine roared in my mind.
Powerless and angry, only cold and flame remained.
Mocking laughter was like the stench of rotting corpses.
Vultures might love it, but I detest it. Perhaps,
the vultures are the classmates themselves. Perhaps
they find joy in teasing one another. Perhaps,
the classmates: one, two, three, more.
Vultures: one, two, three, more.
The Sacred Mountain reappears before my eyes.

 

III. Rebel Sonat

Shadows flicker; the road is rugged;
the heavy snow strikes my face,
stretching endlessly before me.
I dream, I pray, hoping there aren’t
so many vultures attacking.
I dream, I pray to become a black-clad warrior,
to withstand all forms of malice.
I dream, I pray to reach the mountaintop
and find a tranquil realm—a place without
discrimination, war, or divisions.
Bellies, teeth, and fur. The vultures’ bodies
come into focus before me.
Their long claws shoot flames,
swift as lightning, like Wolverine’s in the movie,
longer than the epic of the Mahabharata.
The earth splits, and the shrubwood is destroyed.
Flames stab across my down coat,
almost scorching my hiking bag with violent burns.
The flames, like serpentine trails, dart everywhere,
burning everything. Their wings whirl,
bringing a huge chill wind,
akin to this arctic climate.
Fear is a tangible reality,
yet the shadow of fear within me
is more terrible than fear itself.
The vultures are the enemies;
fear is instant, always present in life.
They attack, they revel, they laugh madly.
I struggle madly to resist.

 

IV. Freedom Rhapsody

Unsolved math problems sway like classmates’ proud heads,
always presenting puzzles instead of solutions.
Their voices echoed in the classroom,
turning into atonal music,
reminiscent of Igor Stravinsky.
With blades drawn in my imagination,
I cut away my incompetent self.
Whatever the cost, I hope to achieve one thing.
I aspire, I pray, I cannot fall on this treacherous journey.
I aspire, I pray, to keep marching forward.
My flashlight not only illuminates the path ahead,
it also becomes a sword, slaying my weaknesses
on the frigid trail to the Sacred Mountain.

 

V. Solo Piece

When they prepared their mischief once more,
I rose, statuesque, with a voice like rolling thunder,
and said, “No.” My voice was loud: once, twice, thrice.
It drove away the vultures before they could plunge me
off the cliff. Yes, I can.
“I believe I can say no to the malice in life.
I can become my black-clad warrior,
driving away bothersome vultures
and all manner of monsters.
I try, try,
again, like Sisyphus confronting his boulder.”

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