Our house is dark, this winter day.
Family feels, so far away.
The hearth is cold, and feelings fade.
Our rooms echo, with past days.
Searching for warmth, unrequited,
stuck in this cold valley.
We're in the dark, stumbling rocks,
no stars to guide us.
All are hurt, a pointless loss.
How far from now, the pinnacle?
When from now, the summertime?