The Last Gasp - Frodo's final ascent

Eyes dim, filled with despair.
Murky darkness veils all.
Wretched gloom is ever present
From this mountain looming nigh,
Spewing forth to smother life
Of which I am a part.

Lips parched, no water found.
The memory of food is lost.
Swollen tongue gets in the way
As crumbs of lembas struggle down.
What little sustenance I find
To aid my waning strength!

Feet scuff the broken path,
Cracked and bleeding, numb with pain.
Each step, they draw me near,
Where the burning depths await.
Up the mountain I must go,
Heedless of the past.

Body bent, desiccated.
Legs coerced to carry forward.
Every step a bold endeavor,
Every inch an aching stride,
All the while drawn to the ground.
How much can I endure?

Hands struggle as I climb,
Avoiding thoughts entertained:
"Take hold of this treasure, yours!
Give in now and slip it on!"
This conflict is so difficult!
Will the struggle end?

Here am I, this final gasp!
The dreaded goal before me gloats,
"What will you do now that you're here?
Your growing doubt, now fed by fear.
It's time to make your final choice!"
And the struggle ends...

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