Glass Sword

Ice sits where my heart should be.

My existence—it is fragile,

it could be crushed at the seems.

If I am to be a sword,

I am a sword of glass.

Brutal, swift, and vast.

But I feel this sword beginning to shatter.

you wouldn't understand,

you aren't aware of the subject at matter.

You carry an ice of your own.

And I know how it can chill you to the bone.

All you ever do is deny,

but how can look into my eyes and lie,

when I can see you start to shiver,

I see your soul wearing thinner.