A Traveler's Last Wish

It's a cold night as I walk on the snowy path,

Nowhere to go and with nothing to sheath,

I am just a penniless traveler bound for a journey

That has no meaning.

The snow-flakes fall upon my worn coat

While some dance in the air and blissfully float,

"Who are you, O' young girl?", the old guard asked me in a whisper,

"I don't know." I reply in a voice that is hoarse yet crisper.

Trying to find the meaning to a life which remains forgotten,

And trying to rise from a destiny that has long been downtrodden,

By corrupt souls desiring power and fortune,

I am on a journey to escape the wraths of those plotting against me.

Who am I? Nobody knows the answer,

Strange enough.. neither do I ,

All that I know is of the burning fire,

Raging through my heart on this cold winter night.

The path before me has disappeared against the white masses,

But I am lead on by unknown forces.

The December wind tries to unravel the mystery surrounding me,

While my lost soul finds shelter against the bark of a lonesome oak tree.

I look at the sky and wonder about my story retold ,

How much time remains for me in this lonesome world?

I do not know as I sink to my knees against the cold but firm ground,

With the hope, that atleast someday I may be blessed enough to be found.