• It falls oh so light at her feet. On his end, the snow turns to sleet.
    She smiles at the moon. He smiles cause its night.
    She's waiting for him. He waits alongside.
    There's no exact reason for her sitting outside.
    There's no true emotion to what he's feeling right now.

    It's almost eleven. And he's nowhere in sight.
    He's thinking of ways to accept what's his right.

    The stairs creak, but the chimney sleeps.

    Twelve. Nothing but confusion.
    Twelve. His crying's his solution.
    She goes up to bed.
    There only point's sleeping.
    He goes to bed.
    His eyes burn disappointing.

    It's almost one. And he's nowhere in sight.
    He's thinking of ways to accept what's his right.

    The stairs creak, but the chimney sleeps.

    The morning awakes, so does she.
    She crawls down the stairs with nothing but dreams.
    The snow is all gone, so is his hope.
    He walks down the hall and thinks he cant cope.
    But wait. What's this? The presents under the tree.
    They all seem to be as true as reality.

    It's morning, and he's nowhere in sight.
    He's thinking of ways to accept that last night.

    The stairs sleep, and the chimney burns.
    Santa has visited and has brought awe in his arms.
    Two chidren rejoice, their dreams and ice thawed.