Far from the populous city,
There is a mountain of felicity.
High above the clouds in the peak,
Sharp and pointed like a bird’s beak.
Breathing in the fresh, crisp air,
We stand under the sky, God’s own lair.
The sun goes down, setting the heavens ablaze,
We appreciate the hues of nature in awe and amaze.
The climb up the steep slope is a difficult feat,
But that makes the spectacular view, all the more sweet.
Geethika Simma 