Whiteout Ends

Whiteout ends.
That don't mean
the cold leaves.
Count the hands.
Count the breath.
Count who made it back.
Snow quit falling
but the world stayed blind
Boot tracks buried
under old white lies
I came out breathing
but I came out changed
Left one name frozen
where the black ice hangs
North Star hidden
but I know
where it sits
One eye open
one hand on the grip
Not for glory
not for gold
Just for the ones
who were left
in the cold
I learned real young
what the storm reveals
Big men break
quiet hands heal
Tie it tight
don't drift away
Some ghosts come home
but they don't come
back the same
Whiteout ends
but the cold don't leave
I count my breath
then I count my team
Hold the tether
hold the line
If one hand slips
then I give mine
Whiteout ends
but the debt stays deep
I count my scars
then I count my sheep
No crown above me
no road beneath
Just a North Star buried
where I still believe
No face,
no trace
no print in the snow
No tower knows
where the old wolves go
I seen law wear gold
while the good men bled
I seen soft hands point
where the poor boys led
I hate the throne
but I know that chair
I feel it call
when the room goes bare
That's the real war
that's the quiet fight
Not the shot
in the dark
but the hand
on the right
Metronome stepper
heart don't race
Breathe through rage
keep a dead calm face
Justice got teeth
but the leash stays tight
You don't become a tyrant
just because you're right
I learned real young
what the storm reveals
Big men break
quiet hands heal
Tie it tight
don't drift away
Some ghosts come home
but they don't come
back the same
Whiteout ends
but the cold don't leave
I count my breath
then I count my team
Hold the tether
hold the line
If one hand slips
then I give mine
Whiteout ends
but the debt stays deep
I count my scars
then I count my sheep
No crown above me
no road beneath
Just a North Star buried
where I still believe
I carried names
I never speak
I carried heat
I never show
I carried power
I never trust
I carried men
through the snow
And every time
I make it back
I ask the dark
inside my chest
Are you the hand
that holds the rope
Or just a king
without a crest.
Don't crown the fear
Don't feed the throne
Don't call it justice
when it wants a home
Don't crown the fear
Don't feed the throne
Hold the tether
or walk alone
Whiteout ends
but the cold don't leave
I count my breath
then I count my team
Hold the tether
hold the line
If one hand slips
then I give mine
Whiteout ends
but the debt stays deep
I count my scars
then I count my sheep
No crown above me
no road beneath
Just a North Star buried
where I still believe
Whiteout ends.
Hands still locked.
Line still tight.
I made it out.
Now I choose
what made it out
with me.