I left my cold barren home in a ship quite grand
For reasons all failed to understand
They begged me to stay
Still I raced to the blessed land
I heard as a boy of that great land
Where no one lost to ice their hand
Yet I was warned of dark magic there
Still I raced to the blessed land
For this icy future the blessed had planned
Heating their strip of earth by technologies banned
They abandoned us for dead
Still I raced to the blessed land
Fierce storms swept us until none could stand
Until the ship crashed into the sand
A gleaming city stood somewhat menacing before me
Still I raced to the blessed land
The people there were tall and tanned
Living lives we could not reprimand
They could not help see us as slow and foolish
I had reached the blessed land
Yet years later on this moonlit night
I remember the snow with sad delight
Return to the atavists I do not truly wish
Nevertheless I somehow miss
The cold's bitter bite
Copyright © 2002 by Thomas R. and Bewildering Stories.