Once upon a Winter's eve,
The quiet sun gleamed up to me,
he spoke aloud not moving lips,
and a chill went into my hips.

And so I looked into the cloudless sky,
and wished upon a starry night,
I hoped for a better dream.
One in which my heart could sing.

But the scars which have carried me there,
Would not leave my hair,
and so they dragged me down,
Until at that was left was Winters gown.

Still alone I gather here,
Along this shallow tear,
wishing for a better morrow,
Although all I've seen is sorrow.