The Doll Maker (re-written)

Hidden in his castle
through the depts of winter
and the falling of crisp orange leaves.
He would work day after day shaping their bodies
moulding them into deathly percision.
Glossy eyes placed on what seemed to be white jade skin.
His face hidden behind a white clay mask ,
he was the doll maker.
That day, she came searching for a doll,
screaming and yelling for the finest he had.
A devious smile leaked out under his mask,
floating gracefully back to his workshop he came back with
what she had so rudely demanded for.
She displayed it in her doll case
and headed for some slumber.
The wind blew violently on her windows,
Her eyes were nothing but opened fixed on her doll;
Its blue eyes and rose like lips seemed to be mocking her.
The rest i cannot say,
anyone who knew the truth wouldnt either.
It was as if the moonlight took her,
her soul flew away with the wind.
The trees kept their silence,
the four walls wouldnt speak.
There was just one object out of place, just one.
My dear reader we both know what it is.
The doll was missing from its case.
I'll leave you and let your imgaination run,
but do beware of the truth in this tale,
the truth that was simply too icy cold to be spoken of.