The Great White North
In the cold desolate state of existanceThe poor man t
ravels down the desperate pathToward the bright light, blinding
 his eyesThe intense cold, the gnawing hungerFills him to
 the extremes of his beingHe falls - and the numbness overcomes
 himShielding him from the wind and madnessHis head stri
kes hard ground and heScrambles to see what he has found
Clearing away the debris reveals to himA lonely tomb, encr
ypted with a single verseThat couplet which was his dying thou
ghtLeft his lips and escaped to the world:"Hark 
thee stranger, come forth....Another victim to The Great White
 North..."IsrafeL [
iCE/PSY]