Heaven comes after death

Rocky was the terrain, too hard to walk on
In the absence of guides, ventured into unknown
Unable to find talent, he developed the skill
Excruciating pain in feet, neglected by eyes filled with thrill

Distant images of leaves, a faint crashing of waves
Inspiration was scarce, but the madness craves
The smell of winning, overpowering the fatigue
Not anymore was he, in reason’s league

 He lifted the cup of life, with his bruised hand
The suffering slipping away, like desert sand
A grin traveled through, scars and sweat
Skies reached, only after the clouds’ threat

He had to fall, while learning to fly
To experience heaven, he had to die

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