Goat

Uh, the goat in him is hard to kill
 and is has yet to eat his fill
 its lengthy struggle
 has dragged him to the top of the pile
 but the summit is sunless
 in dark he ponders its success
 holds what he's created
 in the hoofs he calls his hands
 but he's in love
 with the dead grass underneath his hooves
 cause it's better than nothing
 he's in love
 dinner bell
 chlorophyll
 ringing in his stomach
 he's in love
 the weak part is getting stronger
 his shadow getting longer
 the light is fading fast
 like winter setting in
 with the viewpoint he commands
 from the height at which he stands
 he can retrace every step to the top
 but he'd rather poke out his eyes instead
 up there there is no cover between the sky and him
 can't help thinking it's over cause
 the only way left to go is back.