The air was cold the path was light.
As I walked to Millers Mountain that night.
The branches were snapping the snow was in swirls.
And the cabin was there, I saw the lights.
The moon was so bright for a moment or two.
Now it was fading a storm was in brew.
I hoped I could get there quickly enough.
But in two feet of snow the walking was rough.
My fingers were frozen my boots were like ice.
Snow was still falling and the winds picked up.
I looked again but saw no lights.
Fear did grip me, I filled with despair.
I knew I had seen it but it wasn’t there.
The howling wind felt like a piercing knife.
As I crawled on Millers Mountain that night.
Anxiety building, what was my plight?
Knew the cabin was there I did see the light.
My body was freezing, I felt like on fire.
My bones were all aching yet I must not tire.
As the powering snow is burying me alive.
Disorientated now, I am moving to slow.
Where is the cabin? Where did it go?
My strength is now gone, my body to weak.
On Millers Mountain that night is were I went to sleep.