a/n: 'Nother new poem. . .inspired while I was freezing my butt off at
school since my bus driver was about half an hour late. . .is still trying
to thaw out fingers.
Guarding, watching, night and day,
I am she who haunts the way.

I am Winter, frigid cold,
I who see the kings of old.

I am shadow; dark and light,
I am winding; silver sprite.

The twisting path no man shall cross
Unless they suffer painful loss.

Oh, mortals, mortals, weak you are,
Who cannot touch the eternal star.

Wishing and waiting for what cannot be
You try to resist the fatal sea.

Misty, fleeting shades of gray,
I am she who haunts the way.
a/n: Hmm. . .did that strike any of you as having meaning? Because I'M
still not sure what the meaning of this is. . .my muses just told me to
write it, and I had a visual picture. . .well, please tell me in your
review what you think the meaning of this poem is.