Immortal Journey

As I open the door to my personal sanctuary,
I prepared myself to leave this eternal winter,
Leaving a print behind in the bitter cold,
Knowing that it will eventually,
Be erased by the raging snow.

How I wish I could be,
In the spring that I could only see,
Through a window into a different world,
One so close yet so far from me.

I stare on into the unattainable comfort,
Knowing I need to again tread the blizzard,
To leave the twinkling hope behind,
And unreal desires out of mind.

Perhaps I can find comfort in chaos,
Or establish order in anxiety,
Perhaps I can find meaning in the mundane,
And make a living in this barren, winter wasteland.