The StormThrough a storm were tales untold

Through a storm were tales untold
Roam through my head and feeling cold
And so alone I stand before
A gentle lighted wooden door

I peer inside and see the light
Of flames burn deep into the night
Which dragged me miles through all the snow
Of being such a hopeful glow

I knock and hope the door won't stay
But guides me in in it's own way
So that outside a raging storm
Will not keep me from being warm