Tiny, intricate patterns of white fell upon the earth.

However, my eyes solely presented me with a picture of black.

My mind taunted and teased and toyed with me

As it dragged me back

To the March day my vision was blurred by the snow.

My childhood became ashes as I helplessly beheld

Crimson flames teasingly lick and devour

My yellow house with a force unparalleled.

From that day on, snow was solemly pure and white.

Making snowmen and snow angels brought a chill down my spine

As traumatizing memories of my burnt youth

Flooded this troubled being of mine.

Yet, this year's snowfall differed, much to my suprise,

Since I noted with an expression of disbelief the tears

Which were absent from my eyes.

My heart no longer raced, and my hands no longer trembled.

My faith in Time's ability to heal all wounds has been considated.

Now, I can tread, gradually but firmly, on the path to loving snow anew.

I have finally been liberated.