A stranger wanders an alabaster desert of winter
In search of a snow queen

The earth asleep beneath a thick, white blanket
Resting for the labors of spring

He walks among leafless trees of gray and black
Outlining where tender, green life has been
and will be again

His legs heavy, he stops
He watches feather crystals of ice
Stack themselves upon bony branches
Like sand in an hour-glass

With each grain that falls
He feels his skin harden
And his heart slow

Cold begins to creep into his muscles
Turning them to brittle stone

His eyes freeze into black ice
But he can still see

He can still see as she approaches

He tries to reach out to her
But, collapsing under the weight of what he has become,
He begins to shatter from the inside

First, icy marrow and bone
Then blood chilled to glass
and skin cracking like the surface of a frozen pond

A million red splinters mingle with snow flakes
As they fall to the ground
To become a part of her kingdom, forever