Snowfall heavy, blinding; in thin clothes he was clad;
Lurching, he stumbled upon ground icy, head resting against a grave old;
White vapour blown out, eyes closed, he was glad;
Dying in a place where others slept, ever shielded from the cold.
"May I repose beside you; you whose name I do not know?"
"O teenager, your time won't freeze today," an unearthly voice;
"Are you a victim of the war too? If we fought on the same side, I shall bow."
"Live, fledgling, welcome the new era, you've no other choice."
A purple parasol held over his head; an elderly lady smiled;
"My husband's tombstone", holding out a plate of sweets, " Have these... My offerings";
Hungrily he chomped, prison escapee; "Sorry", he mumbled, mild;
Devouring kindness, avowed to survive in the age blooming, built on many a body, accepting what it brings.