Mountain peaks enveiled in mist
That blurs the limits of how high we could go
Mountain feet cross knit with rivers
Time dictates how slow they would flow
Fires smoulder at increasing distance
Our headlights chasing shapeless thrills
Winding ways weave lifelong memories
That beckon us beyond the hills
That blurs the limits of how high we could go
Mountain feet cross knit with rivers
Time dictates how slow they would flow
Fires smoulder at increasing distance
Our headlights chasing shapeless thrills
Winding ways weave lifelong memories
That beckon us beyond the hills
- vktr
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