We cracked mountains, you and I,
drove fissures into the stones of home,
so we could prime the bombs
needed to break ourselves free.

The heights we climbed, to be eye to eye,
to meet our creators on our own terms
and assault Olympus as
Promethians unbound.

We forked our lightings, decry and reply,
and threw our fathers off their sad heights,
rose above their rounded foothills
and clapped that Shantih sound.

We both lost equally, torn ear and blinded eye,
Fell into moraines we and parted ways
but our futile truce could not stay balanced long
As you stumbled up your equal peak
And I limped up mine.

After a long rest, your eye catches mine.
Round two ensues with unhealed bruises,
and this time we crack the sky.