On Top Of The World
While climbing downwards from the peak,
They passed a helpless figure:
His grip on life was very weak,
His mortis almost rigor.
Yet once, he'd almost led the pack,
The bruiser of the bunch;
It seemed that fate had paid him back
With one great sucker punch.
His speech, although insensible,
Could just be understood:
'My conduct - reprehensible -
Don't leave me here for good.'
Alas, the hapless summiteer
Was utterly ignored.
They trampled on his cold career,
And someone cut his cord.
'Why do you leave my job for dead?'
He called out in despair,
And dimly, someone paused, and said
'Because it isn't there.'