A lost memory that cannot be found
A distant, forgotten, pitiful sound
A trail one traveled a path once walked
A frozen heart forever locked
And here is where I unfold my tale;
Here is where the story begins
A cold clear morn early in December
In perfect detail I can remember
The terror and fright with which I was met
The horrific sight, I’ll never ever forget
The crimson highlight in the snow
What have I done, what has become?
I fall to my hands, I fall on my knees
All the better if here, I were to freeze
The tragedy brought about by my hands
Life is such a delicate thread; frail strands
Where did I begin, why did it end?
Slowly, across my face, a smile stretches
What is happening—what have I become?
How did my heart and mind become so numb?
Had I found this sight not too long ago
It would have frozen me, cold as this snow
Who did this? Was it my fault?
There she lies frozen in death
Wanted to try something Poe-ish.