When there is no snow on the streets to whiten the nights of loneliness.
No tracks from the whisperers in time.
No fog to dampen our view and drive us to forge forward into the unknown.
No cold to push us deeper into the forests of ourselves.
This is a barren land.
All I see are stars, reminding me of the direction of home.
But it is only another road taken,
A world already full,
Music with too many words,
Clothes for a naked soul.