Adjacent to the mountain, green,
Beside the rocky, fatal ridge,
Infinities we march between,
While walking 'cross the finite bridge.

Our tears will fall as clothes we rend
While crawling ever onward all.
When ground runs out and cables end
We all must find out where we fall.

Did we lean t'wards paradise,
That place of endless light?
Or did we favor sin and vice;
Is it the left or right?

We reject the Godly choosing,
Final curtain of our lives.
We ever fight it, always losing,
Every human always dies.

We walk our bridge with no regard
For others on their own.
But in the end with deeds we guard,
For sins we will atone.

We think ourselves a better race,
Supreme, the very best,
But despite our name and race,
We're equal in last rest.

We're on our own, so separate.
By ourselves, a lonely trek.
Our destiny, so desolate,
'Cause in this world we're each a spec.

A grain of sand, a piece of dust,
Knocked over in a single gust.
We crush bugs without a glance,
But it matters to the ants.

Each finite bridge will always end,
Be it ninety years or ten.
How we walk is how we fall,
Be it bent or standing tall.