I saw the Child dreaming.
   His flowing features glowing.
The need to hold this Child's delicate face consumed me.
And whisper,
    Take this rhyme and run-
       While you still can.
Somewhere cold and magical.
But don't forget this land.
     Your Heart is buried here
         -As-well as mine
Your mind has blossomed here.
These tears that formed you-
   So divine.
Shaped your apathy, as-well as your mind.
So don't forget this land.
   Or our buried Hearts
That cold Land was created for your depart.
But alas the Child stay comatose.
   Awaiting the day the World would End.
*Dreaming softly in his Bed.