Treading on a thin layer of ice
Knowing this world hasn't been warm
Every step I take with caution
I am afraid to falter and drown
The unending blizzard of hate
Keeps getting stronger as it devours
Blinding my vivid vision
Losing faith in my enduring power

Flapping it's diminutive wings
Flying against the storm
Hovers a tiny wounded bird
Finds comfort in my palms

I know I have to find my way soon
Before it's too late for this delicate life
As my feet begin to tremble
I hear a squeaky voice
To reach the grounding line of hope
Be invulnerable to world's constant noise

When I had lost zeal in self
And land beneath my feet
This tiny soul whispered
Wisdom, her little wings carried
In the scheme of things
where world seems so grand
Sometimes the purpose of your life
Is fulfilled with the lives that hold your hands