her hair is gold against the pale snow
her lips are rose like the faded petals of flowers
her body is limp like the leaves of the willow
if only she'd make it through these long hours
his hair is a mess beneath the quaint sky
his eyes are alert and searching for someone
his wings are straining and his mouth is dry
if only he was faster than the rapid dipping sun
if only it wasn't too late, if only she was alive,
if only she could hang on, then he could arrive
