There was once a boy who looked towards
The distant, frozen skies,
There flew the frosty birds,
Flying in their disguise.
Hoping to know what it was,
He shot up from the ground,
Through the air, a mere buzz,
As he broke the speed of sound.
The frosty bird was much nearer,
And it looked all the same,
With a wintry body and even clearer;
The eyes a shining gem.
With want in his eyes the boy had then,
Reached the realm of the clouds,
Walking down a frosty lane,
He unveiled the heavens' shrouds.
There he found a narrow crack,
Leading straight to hell,
With the heavenly wind at his back,
Inside the hiatus he fell.
As he ventured through the infinite crevasse,
He reminisced of his past,
Falling through an eternal impasse,
He saw the bird at last.
In its eyes there were lights,
And of childhood it told stories,
Of all the tales and the sleepless nights,
Of the boy's old memories.
He regretted coming here now,
He wanted one last chance,
He just couldn't realise how,
He missed the bird's semblance.
Now up there with a wrinkled pelt,
He searches for the bird of yore,
But watching the frosty old lane mely,
He cannot find it no more.
As he lies up above in his earthly bed,
A couple of feet deep,
There will he lie in this eternal stead,
Till he wakes again from his sleep.