eyelashes laden with snowflakes,
heavy already with tear drops,
frozen stains of red around,
heavy breath, still and sound,
whistling breeze,
no summer trees,
where waters freeze,
and cold are keys,
no bumble bees
over humble pies,
everything dry,
everything white,
frozen and still
her dainty eyes,
don't look at her,
for she might smile,
at your hopelessness,
your untidiness,
at your fate
of dire unrest,
and when you look into her eyes,
you'll feel the pain she went through,
and your hand might tremble before you
break her into pieces,
with that axe in your hands,
why are you scared now that you've already killed her?
yes I know,the regret,
and her soulful stare
that might end up taking away your entire life..