Last night I walked where the fairies live. Tall ice castles brilliant to behold.
The light of the moon cast a golden haze
Reminiscent of the end of days
Last night I walked where the fairies live. Wandering the path of winter's fold.
The enchanted realm watched silently.
From trees that had fallen violently
Last night I walked where the fairies live - feeling warm inside the cold.
The cynic scoffed but they laughed at him.
They played with her hair and delayed the wind.
Until time came for the walk to end - the memory of which, now told.
