A wretched boy slumped through the winter snow,
Ashes scattered; the remains of whom he'd once known.
He clambered, shook, screamed and fell down,
And his knees pummelled into the cold winters ground.

He began to decline into the pebbles, snow, and dirt,
As the blood seeped through his paisley shirt.
Each breath became more withered and cold,
He grew beastly with fear of not growing old.

Just as the soul started it's ascent into the clouds,
He caught the shadow of an ashen haired shroud.
His soul was saved, captured, and regained,
But once a boys soul starts to leave; it never fits the same again.