...

...

I can't interfere.

I have to leave him be.

For nothing will change as this isn't reality.

It's pointless to fight against a dream,

When there is nothing practical to glean.

Although,

It feels real enough,

The ice holds thick and fast,

John Watson's screaming sounds horrific and his death

Forcast.

The sky is shaking and the

Ground isn't blue,

So how can I possibly say that this could be true?

...

His breath is fading

And as he falls away

I see him mouth, "Sherlock."

One last farewell.

...

I can't let him sleep beneath the ice,

It's unfairly cold at best!

If this is a dream then it would

Better for him to have the comfort of a friend,

One he'd have liked to spend a frozen enternity beside.

...

Away from the trauma and all the pain,

I could try to to come to terms with

The tradegy I just beheld.

But it was no dream, or trick of the night

Just my mind not functioning in a time of fright.

...

My dear friend John; the memory of his death I will retain,

Through Heaven or Hell or wherever I am sent,

I hope to find John Watson to greet him with a

Smile, and a faithful phrase

"The Game, John Watson, Is On."

...

Two years later, I jump in and swim down to greet him,

I left it so long.

I hope I can find him.

The water swallowed him and now

It should take me too

Into the greedy darkness and embrace of my first and true.

...

That night on the ice was traumatic at best

After all, that's where two men were laid to rest,

Both corpses were covered by a crystal cloth

Seperated only slightly by the dates of their death

Had their hands entwined beneath the sheets of ice.

...

Moriarty smiled from afar,

Finally the deed was done,

And as he left

He dropped a single red rose, a token for

All the fun they'd had

But he was slightly sad

As he'd never meant for them to die:

Too soon,

Too fast.