The sun awoke in Arendelle
And shed a golden ray
Into the room where Anna and
Her sister Elsa lay.
A child of the dawn indeed,
Sweet Anna was awake.
She clambered on her sister's bed
And gave her quite a shake.
"The sun's awake, so I am too!
It's time for us to play!"
But Elsa shoved her off the bed
And told her, "Go away!"
But one thing always got her out
Of bed, in Anna's plan:
"Oh Elsa, would you like to build
A wonderful snowman?"
They tiptoed to the ballroom, both
With stifled giggling.
"Do the magic," Anna cheered
With eyes a-twinkling.
What magic could have made her sister
Clap her hands with glee?
What power did young Elsa have
That Anna sought to see?
She swirled her hands, and in her palms
A snowball there she shaped.
And when she tossed it in the air,
The room with snow was draped.
Then Elsa stomped her foot upon
The ballroom's frigid floor
And froze it solid, all the way
From one end to the door.
And how they played! They built the snowman
Anna wanted so:
His name was Olaf, lover of
Warm hugs against his snow.
They ran and frolicked, slipped and jumped
As fluffy snowbanks rose.
They skated on this makeshift rink
Amidst the icy floes.
As Anna leapt from mound to mound
Conjured beneath her tread,
Poor Elsa slipped, and sent a wayward
Blast to Anna's head.
With a sickening sound, she hit the ground,
And lay so very still.
A single lock of vivid hair
Then whitened in a chill.
The terror that gripped Elsa, she
Had never felt before.
She cradled in her arms her sister's
Body on the floor,
And let a cry that echoed down
The castle's stony hall.
'Twas then that she was prisoner
To fear's dark, frozen thrall.