Entombed

An icy prison,

Where spring is not known,

The fount once warm, now cold,

Turns to ice in dead hands.

Tears like crystals,

Glittering like glass,

Tinged like ruby spheres,

Shards in a blackened heart.

Blood red lips turned blue,

Skin like porcelain,

And cracked,

Where smiles once formed.

Trapped with open-mouthed pleas,

Unheard in warm light,

Cold souls abound,

Where darkness shrouds.

Dead to pleasure,

And sorrow and pain,

Entombed in glass,

In ice, snow, and darkness.