There are tracks that flow thorough
the simplistic white trails,
a view where many would
            see nothing but
                              blinding avenues.

But there is always a path winding

Never letting the confusion of white
    show that there are steps beyond
                                   the powdered reflections.

Though we may make a crease in the hillside
                          of destiny remember that new
                          memoirs will always fall
                                           covering our failings.

We are on a ***** of pure white,
and only we can make a wrong turn.
                                What avalanches may fall
are of our own false footsteps.

Learning from where we fell.
                         If we don't get up
it shows that we trod wrong and where
buried beneath the white covering our every mistake.