Author's Note: Well, Haku and Kimimaro, two characters whom I adore, take the stage now. This story popped into my head while -- when else? -- I was working on some other things (which, by the way, are coming along at an okay pace). It is a very strong idea, and I'll upload the other parts as soon as I feel that they are of uploadable material. I beg you all for patience there.

This poem, which introduces Haku's part of the story, is about Haku, and it is written from his perspective while he lies in the snow outside his house, having just killed his father. Originally, it was supposed to be free verse, but then a rhyme sort of morphed into it, and stuck . . . the weird way these things do . . .

I've recieved some questions about the title. First off, it is not solely about Haku; it refers to Kimimaro as well. However, so that that it pertains to Haky, it is both a reference to Haku's homeland (where it was always snowing), that his home was kind and warm and loving before his father discovered his mother's bloodline, and it is a reference to Haku's feelings and view of the world at this point in his life.

Eden Has No Springtime

Part I

Love me, I am cold,
a wraith amidst the white
falling, falling to the rhythm
of sunlight playing on the snow
until sunlight dims to night,

and what am I
and where shall I go?
No heart is home to me,
a child in the snow.
Springtime has no color
for the world is full of greys
and I myself am lacking Eden
all throughout my days.

Love me, I am cold,
frozen touch upon me, mother,
chilled blossoms from an empty sky
courting one another.
And what of grief?
Of sorrow unexpressed?
That which is brooding still
behind the clouds above
me, Mother,
in the dull uncaring sky,
waiting, as am I, for love.

To be cherished by the white,
and consoled by frigid breeze
when all the world is still
and time is only time to grieve -

Mother, I see your face,
it blends in with the clouds.

And neither heart nor hand holds me now
to earth, but winter's breath
is a lullaby, a song
of whatever mystery is death,

and still the sunlight plays
a glimmer on the snow
the counter of the days
as I lie awake below,

A ghost upon which the world revolves
slow and slow and slow
in the pathway of the heart
that once was, long ago -

Eternities have passed since then,
and time has bled away
for Heaven has no soothing hand
but snowflakes come to stay.

Skeletal trees crowd around me,
reaching for the sky
unadorned by blossoms,
naked, starved, and shy.

A dreaming voice,
rock me into sleep
for snow alone holds me now,
a soul in its soft keep,
and I want the unfeeling deep.

Clouds have left me, Mother,
they're so very far away,
and the cold is as an angel
come to lie with me today.

And snow keeps falling, falling,
Shimmers on the ice -

Love me, I am cold,
I am dark and stunned inside
and grey turns to grey around me,
and into greyness dies.
Snow to hold my hand,
my Mother, and what a bright
and dying world is this,
My dissolution into white -

Lullaby, Mother,
gentle winds of winter's keep,
rock me, sing me into sleep,
into death and dreams and sleep -
to where I fade, when I fade this hour,
a thought, a shade, a broken flower
strewn across the earth;
. . . goodnight.

Poor Haku. Please, tell me what you think, all reviews are welcome. The story, Kimimaro's poem, and Kimimaro's part will follow in due time. Thank you!