it isn’t failing…

 the ice now covers everything,
 the cold is in my bones,
 and i've lost why they say this country
 lies in temperate zones

 but every bit of cold, won't slow
 my voyage now back home;
 the lights there in the distance from
 the waiting aerodrome

 so have i been a failure?
 this thought turning in my mind --
 i didn't do the things i thought
 or find what I thought i'd find

 but though things turned out differently,
 it still is (mostly) well --
 it isn't failing, falling, since
 i'm not still where

 i fell