As the snow hills gather we drag our numbing toes behind, the man staggers, while the old wind blows I can feel my hands turning cold and black with ice resting even slightly, would bring a heavy price And now the moon cracks a pocked open face I will not fall behind, I will keep up my pace
Hey James... some excellent lines in here... love the image at the beginning... "As the snow hills gather"... and the phrase "old wind blows", very nice. Best line, "And now the moon cracks a pocked open face". Enjoyed. As usual. Nice to see you again.