On mountain majestic a road is cut
and winds round to a cabin high.
A wound it opens up
and bleeds upon the eye.
The scar it leaves for progress sake
and a home built in heaven ethereal.
Yet upon my soul, there is a rend
perhaps only heaven can heal.
But time does pass
and weather's erosion wipes clean.
And the soul within
lives on, and yet never the same.