I know it was long ago,
but still,
though icy wind isn't carving
my face anymore,
icy thoughts are carving
my mind.

Still,
though my clothes aren't wet
with melting snow anymore,
my cheeks are wet
with cold tears.
The road was hard,
the road was harsh.

I remember me stumbling
through the snow.
And when my body's power had faded,
my mind's power made me continue
my road through hell.
Hunger. Pain. Cold.

So many people have died.
When will I finally forget?