Wandering restless through the hillside
On a cold December day,
My solitary journey guided
Only by the pilgrims high in the sky.
Fog invades the lands
Blocking the last rays of the dying sun
And a veil of mist and serenity
Gracefully covers the night.
The shadowy trees of the forest,
Once imbued with beauty and life
Now twisted and eternally frozen
By a shroud of snow and ice.
As the glow of the dawning sun
Vanishes in the witherd sky
My eyes wander up through the whispering winds
And watch the glare of the stars dilute.