snowcaps fill my vision
perched upon window
seat; trees line winding
path, through it all I seek
that overhanging crag
hidden by hillside shrubs;
an opening pitch black
my secret cave; my
space for rumination,
that peace of mind that
follows a distortion of
fact, my becalming
before another storm
brews like an avalanche
waiting to happen.

I've come to terms within
self compensating for
other's shortcomings,
delineating oneself with
social grace; allowing
them to dig their own
graves, but, not at my
expense anymore, fore,
I will only compromise
on my terms amicably;
in reflections cave of
thought, minding my
business and leaving
theirs alone.