The Journey

The moon shines full to dully light my steps.
I walk, quietly, through the dark cold night,
Alone, Again, As usual.
But somehow this bothers me little:
Mutch like the cold;
It is there, a quiet acheing,
But nothing unbearible,
And at times, even quite plesent.
I gaze at the soft stars,
And watch my breath as I travel down the path I have chosen.
Hoping someday, near the dawn,
I will meet another wery traveler,
Who is going my way,
That they may walk beside me 
Into the light and heat of the day.