Long Walk Home

Greeted only by the west wind’s sharp blast,
I make my way through the foot deep snow,
And see from the long shadows that are cast,
That it will be dark when my head hits its pillow.
The road ahead is harsh and hard to tread,
And though the scene can claim its rightful due,
It is the loneliness that fills my heart with dread,
As I know the emptiness of my return is true.
The darkness hinders my forward progress,
But far worse is the light from other houses,
Who by their warm hearths serve to stress,
My empty house and all which that arouses.
For it is true to say my house is not a home,
And that lifelong lonely I seem set to roam.