"The compass knows not which way to go,
And Life's submerged in winter's snow,
The path before us fit for sleds,
Dusted with a blizzard's web.
Clear a path and the light the way,
And get us through to break of day,
Step through the ice-encrusted door,
That shows the way to the dawn thaw.
Stay too long in the hibernal realm,
And the chill begins to overwhelm,
Sit, rest, and take respite,
And become at one with fading light.
See The Winter King and then bow down,
With frostbite smile and holly crown,
Icicle sceptre makes the heartbeat slow,
Lonely as the North wind blows."
― Stewart Stafford
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