Perilous mountainsides that loom as lamenting faces.

Prevaling, blackened winds swallow me,
As I lay lost, alone at the desolate base of
These perilous mountainsides, that loom,
As lamenting faces, twisted in moonlight
In a jagged chasm of unending loneliness,
With its shadowy horizon, swaying trees
And gales, laden with deafening miseries
That echo and reverberate and obscure;
Malevolent, resolute, as unseen infinities.