The Rock Climbers

Why do we never hear about the ones who fail?

I have the pinnacle in my sight.  But what I thought would be the next, crucial handhold was not marked by a shadow.  The shadow turned out to be a discoloration in a flat surface.

And why do you think that, since I got up here, I can get down?  It's not simply a matter of reversing what I have already done.  The movements are different.  The muscles are different.  The shifting of weight is different.  What I can see is different.  And I might be too enervated to do it in any case.  

And so I cling until I can cling no more.

Even the goats fail.  A mother teaching the art to her offspring.  She falls to her death before their eyes.  But they carry on as they must.