It was a dark snowy day

In the Small town of Larke

All around could hear young Timmy say

“I’m not afraid of the snow and the dark

and the big old brown bears!”

Off he went to take a gift to his neighbor

With no cares,

On the way he swiftly passed

a small creek covered in snow, shining like a sabre

little did he know it was his last

He thought, the ridge is another mile up why not cross now

the river was safe for all he knew

He never even said Ciao

his last, his last creek, his last walk, his last breath

He ran across the river, but never made it through,

he had done the dance of death

 

Timmy thought he was bulletproof

a bad mistake to make on a night such as this.

He sure wasn’t foolproof

Timmy said he was not afraid,

and he sure wasn’t

he said that none had to come to his aid

he was wrong, he needed fear

for that was the only thing that kept his eyes clear

fear is what keeps one sane

all that courage kept him vain

to the dangers of the world

Timmy’s dance of death had unfurled