Killer Mountain

• Tia Dansky, Grade 4
• Poetry
• 2019

In the frigid cold and eerie stillness of dawn ascending,
I emerge from the safety and comfort of my hiking tent.
As I gaze up, the colossal peak of Nanga Parbat towers over me;
I am drawn to the mountain’s powerful energy challenging me to the summit.
Killer Mountain is its name, as so many before me have met their fatal end here.
I strap on my crampons and lift my pack of meagre supplies.
The adventure begins as I take my first steps into the deep, soft, snow.
Up and up I climb, for hours on end, what seems like an eternity.
The air is thin and the altitude makes my head swim with unclear thoughts....
But I am so close now to the summit and I trudge on with fearless determination.
Finally the end is within reach and I half crawl, half drag myself with the little energy I have left.
I have done it- I have summited the Killer Mountain!
A sense of achievement and exhilaration washes over me like a wave.
I stand there alone, proud and thankful for my life.