It's 9:15. I'm climbing up into morning. Lungs are screaming for air. Enshrouded shapes are forming. I see his vacant stare. I heard him calling on the radio. First one this year. We couldn't reach him through blinding snow. He pushed too hard. That's what everybody said. It snowed three days he must be dead. I'm trying to break through. I am reaching for the sky. I am frayed, torn in two through fields of the fallen lost in the gray. It's 4:18. Every step brings me homeward. Through the valley of d**h, there he sits like monument. I blame myself, for lack of endeavor. I must press on, lest I become another. If I slow down my heart may shatter from within I will not become him. I'm trying to break through. I am reaching for the sky. My lips are cracked, bleeding, blue, I'm still calling for you My arms stretch toward you I want to look you in the eye. Spread your wings won't you, over the fallen? Lost in the gray.