In the shadows of the mountains, where the echoes softly weep,
Lies a tale of solitude, where a philosopher took a leap.
Away from crowded city streets, where misanthropy did grow,
He sought a refuge in the peaks, where the mountain breezes blow.

A misanthrope in solitude, under the moonlit dome,
A philosopher in exile, finding solace in his home.
In the embrace of nature, where the wild rivers roam,
He carved his thoughts in silence, in the mountains, his new throne.

Shunning the noise of human woes, he climbed the peaks so high,
A hermit in the wilderness, 'neath the vast, expansive sky.
His mind, a quiet symphony, in the solitude did play,
As he contemplated existence, in the mountains far away.