Skiing through slopes of white, 
I left cleans cuts in the snow, 
The fresh mountain air such a delight, 
The wind whistling in my ear, 
 
I had no doubt in my ability, 
Further and further i pushed myself, 
Swerving through trees with agility, 
This feeling of freedom is rare, 
Untouched snow called my name, 
Sheets of snow like a field of clouds, 
To let it go to waste was a shame, 
So deeper and deeper i went, 
 
Skiing through the untouched lines brought me joy, 
A feeling so immeasurable and unexplainable, 
Like i was in a toy shop a little boy, 
A freedom incomparable 
 
Thicker and thicker fog I faced, 
I ignored the risk, 
I couldn't let the snow go to waste, 
So i continued skiing with no regard  
  
Realized, lost in icy air  
Frostbit fingers regretted my mistake  
No trees around, no solace there  
Hope i nearly lost  
  
Doomed within the fog's embrace  
Consumed, I sank in cold despair  
Deeper into snow i sank, a chilling space   
No escape from nature's snare  
  
Yet through the fog, a glimmer showed  
A ray of hope, a pathway cleared  
Familiar slopes like a warm abode 
A way home i had found