The Greatest Height

Pinterest

I climbed alone, no golden thread,

No father’s name above my head.

Through midnight oil and wounded pride,

I built each rung with fire inside.

The summit waits in crystal air,

where empires shine, but silence stares.

No cheering crowd, no trumpet sound,

Just the lonely wind speaking round.

Beneath my feet, the valleys fade,

Old wars turn into ash and shade,

The sleepless nights, the risks I took,

The friends who left without a look.

Here wealth is quiet, heavy, true.

Not glittering coins, but the man I grew.

Each scar a medal, each wound a throne,

Self-made, unbowed, standing alone.

The world looks small from heights like these,

Where freedom walks with earned peace.

No theft, no luck, no easy crown.

Just the fire that burned me down,

And built me back, a sovereign flame.

This is the peak. This is my name.

The greatest height is not the gold,

But standing tall

Untold, unbowed, and whole.

Writers, bring your chaos, your charm, and your half-baked drafts — ***Beyond Lines*** is ready for the beautiful mess. Let’s publish it!

[embed]Beyond Lines — Join Our Publication Where stories don’t need to be perfect, just real!!!!!.medium.com