My heart grows cold, like autumn leaves. Bright red, but covered with frost. If I am not your friend, who is? Does the wind bear a taint of lies? If I close my eyes, I see the truth. Nothing escapes my pain, I embrace it. All those words, a waste of breath, I see. All those truths were but crystals of ice. So clear, so sweet. So brittle. My mind grows quiet, like a mirror already broken. The spell is already cast, the pieces scattered. |