Darkness greets him and he is awakened by the storm

Lonely and forgotten this Christmas morn.

The wind lashes brutally, in his chambers his shivers and shakes.

What fine company he and his sorrow make.

He is lost in his memories; reminiscing of the one he loved the most.

Now shackled up in his make-believe dungeon he sleeps with ghosts.

He’s clipped his wings; he’s torn them to shreds

And now he lies crying, bloody and broken upon his bed.