Lonely Mountains

Traveling back to my country has been a remarkable experience, especially the road trip I took with my family. We left the coast towards the high lands to our final destination the high part of the jungle. My niece lives there and we were eager to visit her and meet her husband and their baby girl. While traveling by car through the highest peaks I heard the mountains talk softly to me. The high land mountains and the jungle ones all said the same. With sorrow in their voice they explained how they resent the roads built on them. That was not the deal they said, our guts were cut open and our faces slashed in return of giving people the joy of experiencing the nature of their land. But instead cars pass by eager to go somewhere but they don't stay. We yearn for people and want to hear their laughter and excitement; instead we just receive car pollution spread on us in a rush. That is why we are not ashamed to admit we steal souls for joy. We command distracting exotic flowers to grow by the edge of cliffs, we create fog to blind driver’s eyes, snow from the highest peaks are at our command to release its furry upon traveling cars. All our efforts are not in vain because we aim to invite as many humans rolling down to our feet. But don't fret, we promise a peaceful departure down in our arms. Our sweet traveler's decayed bodies have led us to the souls that remain. And when they wake up they stay because we, the highway mountains offer all you can dream of. It's a shame it has to happen this way but if we catch you, you will be thankful we did.