The Fridgid Knowing Snow

The snow has set, the night is deep
A hush upon the world I keep.
Beyond the glass, the tv glows
Yet none will call, none care who knows.

I knocked once, twice, in years now past
But found no welcome, no one held fast.
They feasted well, they spoke my name
But only when it served their game.

And so I stand where silence clings
Where wind unweaves the thread of things.
Not by choice, yet here I dwell
The lone observer left to tell.

They war for crowns crumbling to ash
For fickle pride, for coin to stash.
Each battle loud, yet none will see
The quiet cost of being free.

I sought a road that led to peace
But roads are naught but thin caprice.
A choice, a step, a chance, a wrong
And then the night is hard and long.

Still, in the cold, I make my stand
No softened heart, no outstretched hand.
Perhaps, in time, the thaw will show
A path unseen beneath the snow.