New fallen snow on an icy road,
this path I stumble along.
I shake the branches,
I can't take any chances,
but still I fall beneath the serpent song.
Two weeks pure, sacrificed,
a single day to purge my vice
to lay my flesh upon the ground.
Two bluebottle flys, saved,
and two stinkbugs, revived.
Seeing the dead, curled up things
come back to life,
I am certain I will survive
any trials that might assail me,
in the frigid gray sky days to come,
before I finally lay this body down.