| On an icy road, somewhere between my many lives
I stopped and pondered where next to go.
Ahead in the distance were Frosty woods,
Behind well-trodden meadows,
And beneath me, alas, that was where I was ultimately going.
Was this the cold of twilight, or the twilight of cold?
For I always felt there had to be other places--
Places warm, where cries of joy and sorrow are whispers of hope;
Places where one’s worries were of things high and noble.
But in my mind, I could read the timeless words:
"If only I could hold out in this frozen state, then...",
Chiseled by the actions of many a fallen friend.
When at last I finally decided to move
I slipped into a dream.
And have yet to wake up.
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