"Deliverance"

And so he wept, this broken man, this innocent child. For love won and love lost, for the fainting lullabies and crying pictures. He grasped at spring's laughter, summer's whispers, autumn's smiles, in haste, in hope. In vain. But came winter's gusts, and in their wake remained naught but whiteness, so dark and so red in this unending night.