Step out into the cold where no one goes,
where the night air speaks no words of hurt or hate.

The fog of your breath distills in moonlight,
and somewhere a dog barks at the sound of cars.

A wraith-like plastic bag drifts down the street,
a specter, like you, that wanders all alone.

You walk the lonely familiar sidewalks,
hopelessly attempting to forget yourself.

The silent stars above look so becalmed,
though tormented by the slow turmoil of space.

You tread along a crack in the cement,
just like it's a cord that bears you through the air.

In the end the cold reaches into you,
and freezes your wandering will to go on.

Though the cold, the moon, and the stars remain,
you happily crawl back to the place you left.

Mountains and valleys and planes of the mind,
the world in the raw, the home of mankind.

The sea looks so deep from a peak in the sky,
and so full of stars, reflected at night.

Horizons converge and the sky becomes land,
and I climbed the whole world in an effort to stand.

One with the valleys, the mountains, the sea,
and each one a part of the world that is me.