She rose like a shadow in the morning, with the strength of a thousand storms, her eyes reflected the sky, but her body gave way, like a rock that breaks.
Every step weighed like the world, every breath a silent scream.
The mountain does not cry, but watches, because it knows that the wind changes.
She was the mountain, still, silent and infinite, her hands were roots in the earth, and in her heart there was no fear.
The mountain, broken by time and pain, but nothing could break her, because she was already part of the sky.
The Cancer took her flesh, but it never touched her spirit.
In the darkness of her nights, she found the courage to smile, while her bones became snow, while her face became the moon.
The mountain, broken by time and pain, but nothing could break her, because she was already part of the sky.
The mountain does not give in, does not bend, because every crack is just another dream.
Now she lies in a field of stars, where the wind will never find her again.
Her voice is the echo of the peaks, and her breath is the calm of the sea.
She is not dead, she has become earth, she is the sound that the sky listens to.
The mountain does not give in, does not bend, because every crack is just another dream.
Now she lies in a field of stars, where the wind will never find her again.Her voice is the echo of the peaks, and her breath is the calm of the sea.
And so in its silence, the mountain has found peace, but its name will remain, an eternal breath in the wind, the mountain, always alive, always high, always here.
