In the mountains of Russia
In the region of Siberia
To cross this small sea
One must meet the criteria
Across Lake Baikal
A man walks the icy plains
The wind whips and howls
In every step he gains
No shelter he will find
He presses on with his will
Yet he feels those daggers
Of that ungodly windchill
Over a mile deep
Over 12,000 square miles
The deepest lake on earth
With endless frozen tiles
The frigid ice is thick
Beneath his cold feet
But he cannot stop moving
He will not take a seat
Hypothermia begins
Frostbite draws nigh
But he continues to walk
Under a starlit sky
The ice of the darkness
It pelts at his face
As the light of the moon
Illuminates that place
He walks on the water
With each step he takes
He disappears from the shore
To destiny across the lake
Shivering to the bone
A quiet walk of isolation
The blustery conditions
Have time and duration
Lights in the distance
With thoughts in his silence
Here in the present
Through winds of violence
And off in the distance
There appears a land ridge
But first he must pass
Through this demonic fridge
Years later, a new road
Another path he would take
He gained strength from the past
When he crossed the frozen lake
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