Dotted Lines

This is my calling. 
I hear it. 
My life will be spent running to, 
not from. 
The cold wind whispers; 
a compass through my soul.  
Soothing 
and chilling to the deepest rivers of my heart - 
the old. 
While the mountain stands. 
Sentries below. 
Ready, 
ringing to the core. 
I do not fear it. 

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