Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening – Entry for Golden Ticket to TI5

By Visage (with apologies to Robert Frost)

Whose woods these are I think I know

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me swooping here

To let my soul gaze on the snow

My small gargoyles must think it queer

To stop without a hero near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year

They give their stony wings a shake

To ask if there is some mistake

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake

The woods are lovely, dark and deep

But I have many souls to reap

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep

By Sylvia Morris

(Headcanon that when Visage is off-duty he swoops around his snowy home and writes poetry.)