[Verse 1] The winter wind cuts in, Chilling down my skin, Standing at a crossroads, Where shadows sway and spin. In my hand a single page, Softly trembling in the breeze, Somewhere deep inside my chest, A quiet sound begins to breathe. Choosing where to go next— Courage mixed with weary sighs. Just one fragile piece of paper Holds tomorrow in its lines. [Verse 2] A pale breath rises upward, Blurring in the sky, Moistening the heart that hesitates, Though it never says why. The edge of the page is cold, So are the tips of my fingers, Yet a distant tune is calling, A melody that lingers. Gathering the scattered light, Letting go of heavy shadows. Even trembling feelings Shape the path that I will follow. [Verse 3] Winter’s quiet settles in, Steadying my restless chest. A drop of doubt falls softly, Returning to the earth to rest. I fold the paper gently, Hold it close inside my palm— A tiny spark of resolve Starts breathing, growing calm. Even in the winter’s bite, My heart can find its heat. With only these two hands of mine, I’ll walk on—sure, complete. Under the frozen season sky, A single thread of light remains. The warmth of paper in my hand Still lingers, soft like a flame. A slow and steady breath, And quietly, without a sound, I take a step toward tomorrow.
