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.