Dragging limbs of lead up and up, on and on
So heavy, so incredibly heavy
Cannot carry on but I have no choice
Stop and look around
Villages once so large are now so small
Like a model village in my clutches
I reach out and pick up cottages a pub a church
All in my hands, in my grasp
Heather snaps at my heels
Its coarseness reminds me to move on
To higher ground where my goal lies
Slowing down as the heather gets thicker
The earth like a mattress bouncing my
Weary limbs back ready for one more
Tired stride towards a summit that is forever
Disappearing, getting further and further away
And then there it is
The summit that is my goal, my aim
Limbs as light as air now as
I race towards my nirvana
And then here I am
Sat on top of the world
The Autistic FellRunner 