Desolation, he was
One of those rare bittersweets
Ashamed of a name like winter
He kissed her lightly on the cheek
And whispered in her ear.
He froze the tear that almost fell,
And flicked it with his fingertip
That hollow shatter as it hit the ground
The tear the never fell.
Thirteen chimes, and time to go
You told me your secrets,
I told you my own.
His voice becomes gentle and soft.
Icy cheeks clash against a destructive warm breeze
Their breath, it mingles and mixes
Some sort of idea, which could never be
A single finger against his solemn lips.
And she reaches out to touch his subtle face
But only creates a crack
Sinking into her delicate arms
All that's heard is the tender I love you.
Spring can be seen from far away
She runs, runs through the barren woods
And he begins to melt in her arms.
He begins to melt in her arms.
The green twists around his feet
Vines cover the delicate curves
And he sinks into a pool of glass
A light on the water, all ships pass
He steps through his mirror,
To the edge of night.
Mixed with shadows, cloud and shade
The thoughts of her fade.
As he turns to stone.
And sleeps.
Nothing more can be done,
She must wait another year.
Another sight of him will come.
At this same time, next year.
The man, who wasn't really.
The man, named Winter.
