Out of nowhere is where I am;
Casting my sights on unfamiliar places,
Unsure where this road will lead me
Still clinging to my spark of hope.
A wanderer is who I am;
A traveller venturing without a map,
Uncertain where these instincts lead me be
Yet I am lost in my own "make-believe".
Time is fleeting, and still I am thinking;
Will I forever live this subtle life?
I don't have all the time in this Winter
However this "time" will be taken away eventually...
The winter wind blows so harshly;
My body is freezing up to the bone
My skin is now as pale as snow,
What can become of me, no one will know.