The Snow Guardian

True Silence

Upon the trail to far, bitter cold,
Strand beneath a storm of old.
The dare, the few, to dwell on forth,
To seize and claim the manless north.
Over the deeds of bravery and heart,
Their journey would end in an hour start.
For no man should to mark such name,
Into the desolate death where corpse be fame.

Despite to warn to sway such soul,
None would change its impetuous goal.
Such fragile youth of the mortal man,
Whose dreams were big of eternal grand.
And march they did with packs now weigh,
Onward they go they never sway.
To frozen grave that welcomes all,
Let them to sleep its hail of thrall.

Conquer through the dark morning,
Hear the whistle blow and singing.
Of days and weeks that tread in step,
To find them daunt and eager prep.
And life shall claim by winter frost,
Cold and stone and betrayal of trust.
Here the dead shall know no song,
As few and few can get along.

Fear then stirs the youthful core,
Panic rage that hungers for more.
With every crunch of heavy snow,
Their light now dim of faintly glow.
With destine route within to view,
Their eager hearts burn bright and true.
They scale ahead amongst the dead,
A sudden rise against the dread.

But something stand in their path,
A storm then brings its sudden wrath.
None to trail this battered weather,
As they seek a cave to shelter.
And with time they settle down,
Another guest arrives around.
Yet it was no man, not flesh or bone,
But a living flame that was all alone.

It walk through the wind like a ghost,
It roams through the cave like a host.
The men remain as silent as a mouse,
To avoid the dangers around its house.
And when it turned the men then stare,
For their eyes then glued upon its glare.
In awkward silent, the ghost disappear,
Was it startled, afraid or even fear?

By petal dawn the men advance,
Their poles then plunge the ground in stance.
Triumph their deeds to reach the peak,
For this is no sudden small of feat.
And when return to the civilize world,
The men cannot ignore the experience they hurl.
The ghost of hail, the guardian of snow,
A lonely soul in cold and bitter glow.



Short Version:


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