The Ice Maiden

Old tales tell,

Of an enchantress long ago.

Who isolated herself,

up in the forests of winter,

in a castle crafted of diamonds and icicles.

They say she cried tears of pearl,

from her pale blue eyes of stone.

Her hair, they say,

was made of the most delicate crystals,

her lips, the sapphire of a mountain stream.

At night, they say,

she walked through the woods,

cloaked in snow,

singing a song of her sorrows,

the song of her lost love.

Her voice, they say

is like soft rain,

soothing the soul, calming the mind.

Many claim to see her,

but few can ever tell,

for they say,

she emulates the light of star.


The people called her evil,

And claimed that she

had been imprisoned in that castle,

For deeds of sorcery and torture.

But only one ever dared to know,

Dared to figure out the truth,

But, alas

His tale is through,

For he fell in love with the Ice Queen,

As she loved him.

They lived together in bliss,

Until one fateful day,

When the superstitions of people won,

They killed him, they say,

For the good of their people.

The Maiden of Ice,

Locked herself away then,

Into her castle of diamonds,

Until the age of the people were through.

But many claim to still see her,

Wondering the forests at night,

Singing the song of her sorrows,

The song of her lost love.