Some people dream of stars.
They wish for the dark,
The beautiful night sky.
They want to dance with meteors,
Swim in the milky way,
Laugh with the Man on the Moon.
They don't realize what the night also brings.
There is a coldness that lurks in the dark,
A foul freeze that reeks of frostbit death,
The odor crisp against a chapped nose.
It hungers for heat,
Thirsts for light,
And makes due with substitutes.
People of flesh and bone,
With a warmth in their heart,
And a spark in their soul.
But these are mortal sacrifices.
Stars cannot be satisfied with things destined to expire,
A false heat, a false light.
A false hope.
I am wise to daydreams,
I live in a land of ever-lasting winter.
For many nights I fight against the moon,
I am alone in a private, little war.
I used to not be.
A shiver runs down my spine.
It is not caused by snow.
I am wiser than the common man.
In times of rare, peaceful sleep,
I see fie