Walking Out of Hell

I DON'T want to fall

from the hilltop,

looking out

is wondrous, seeing

all that can be,

with well-bright eyes,

the hillside is renown

for being where most

reside, I do not visit

often, though fallen

from the level of clouds,

I am still hopeful

in the midst of dirt-born fog,

but when cast below the hillside,

I am at level with the sea,

monstrously swallowed,

at times I go under, but I've

yet to drown, in sight of the hill,

I'll make my next climb, again

reach the hilltop.