Snow Queen, in your crystalline fortress,
Where your eyes are as chilling as your heart is vexed,
You are ensconced in a sparkling throne,
The light glistening off of it as if it were gold,
Your beauty is revered by all whose hearts your ice splinters pierced,
But through the blustery wind and snow, there are those who demur your reign,
Who believe that, as their queen, you will suffer at the hands of fate
And alas, you smash your scepter against the mirror in which you glance
Demanding no less than to endear all who look upon your fortress,
And though there are those whose lives you beset,
Hypnotizing their lovers through the ice in their eyes,
You require their idolization, lest they wish to meet their demise.
Snow Queen, will you ever be satisfied with what you have?
Or is it too much for you to fathom that the light your fortress enclaves
Could be more substantial than the darkness you bade your subjects to remain?