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Stripped of all color,
The fields lay white against a setting sun.
A traveler stands alone
On the side of a forgotten road.
Breath rising in an icy mist,
He glances at his bleached surroundings,
Meeting the cold stares of only snow-covered trees
And meadows.
His cold blue eyes are a perfect match
For the mysterious substance blanketing the ground.
Ahead of him lies a clean, unbroken piece of land,
The land behind him is also as such.
He stands in the only two boot prints
That have marked the snowy scene,
Trying desperately to understand his situation.
He studies,
Stares,
And still stands immobile.
He racks his brain for a solution.
How could he possibly reach any destination
Without disturbing the serene layer of snow?
He runs a black-gloved hand through his long hair
And releases a sigh,
A ball of pent up frustration.
Finally,
He deems the dilemma unsolvable,
Surrenders his thoughts on the subject,
And takes a step into the icy terrain.