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it’s always circumstance exerting will,
no matter what the dream or effort plied.
It’s noble, yes, to proudly boast, I tried
but effort left alone will not distill.
It seems a frosted flurry aims to chill
the seeds that sprang to life hope glorified.
The moon gave thrills, then waned, and so I sighed.
Is some dark force against me wishing ill?
It’s time to acquiesce; I loathe alone,
especially now, as springtime proffers hope.
Faux bravery's for fools, I’ve always known.
You've warmed my hungry heart and helped me cope.
The mountain's first to view the breaking dawn;
renewed, I shout, and spring up winter’s slope.
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