Her heart was warm Knifed cuts bled shivering blood outside in But her heart whispered screams warm. Your fingertips warm, softly etched words in a language unknown Confusion sat upon a throne and ordered darkness her heart a home Yet her heart fought on, still warm. Seasons blurred by in sunsets warm, her hands may have been cold Her story silently untold as fury shook her hands But her heart was always warm. Coldness hid the light of a muddy warm Tangled words told and mangled thoughts sliced skin Morose shadows truth and her heart is still warm. Forgiveness feels sunshine fall lightly on two worlds making it warm Your fingertips no longer touch her heart But sit quietly upon her fingertips, palm to palm Her hands are warm.