The pilgrim trudges along her  journey 

Stubbornly refusing to feel the biting cold,

 Stubbornly refusing to feel the thorns, she tramples on as she walks

But then, in a moment of weakness,

the stark reality of it all hits her.  The journey laid out before her Appears near impossible, 

The pain comes flooding in 

And the tears threaten to escape her will.

To go back? Trouble

To continue her journey? Even more trouble.

So then what becomes of the pilgrim? 

What more can she do 

Other than to get back on her feet? What more can she do 

But desperately resist this despair? What more can she do 

But travel on admist the biting cold, Her tears freezing halfway down her face?

This pilgrim must continue on her journey,

 Whether the path is laced with thorns or not. 

This pilgrim must go on, crying, traveling…