The Valley’s Delight


Perched atop the lofty mountains grandeur
My eagle's eye can see all the way down to Abhor
There's mystery in this place, on top of this mountain
Its so full of grace, and answers to all my doubting
Far below, crumpled in an old disgusting filthy musty shed
Lies the shadow of a man so broken and scarred he ought to be dead
He beckons me to come and see, with a steady face that makes me weep
In Abhor's streets, there is despair in the air
I pull up a chair, as Forgotten gives me a stare, and says take care
Not to miss the complexity of Chaos
Do not look past her eloquence just because of her loss
"You see," Forgotten ponders, in a soothingly piercing tone
"The mountain is excellent, I know, for I once called it home
I thought myself so clearly and completely blessed by God,
Which is why, as I wandered, I found it quite odd,
That the pathways I trod took me down low
I exchanged riches for rags, property for poverty,
Everything I held was thrown away in pursuit of the godly
And that was where I so painfully discovered,
That I am hopelessly and completely a slum lover
The mountain is high the valley is sweet,
But what really matters is imperfect and incomplete
You cannot have love without the chase,
There would be no winner without the grueling race
When life comes to its lowest is when one begins to see
The greatness of contrast, that defines pure beauty"

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