I've done my climbing, I’ve been to the summit.
No legends created, but been there and done it.
Descending, first slowly, at ease with the world,
Should be easier than the climb, relax inferred.

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But, as I walk down that ever steepening hill,
Toward the undeniable, eventual, bitterest pill.
Milestones quicker, a blur, life’s endless reel.
Time inside out, years actually, minutes I feel.

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People walking with me, locked in my bubble.
Unchanging, incremental decay, ever so subtle.
People walking up the hill, see us so differently.
As we are, from their perspective, objectively.

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That stoop, I've developed, from pushing too hard.
That pain in my back, the stabbing of glass shard.
Just part of what I've become, how did it happen?
Health failing gradually, following life's pattern.

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Time flying, everything happening concurrently.
No time to reflect, or to plan, purely space to be.
My journey nearly over, proud I didn't stand still.
I fought and I battled and I have conquered the hill.