It's the middle of summer,
Yet it's so cold.

As the sun rises,
My vision blures to blackness.

As She carves the heart out my chest.
It feels as if I was like the rest.

So heavy and dark,
Its as She holds a beating piece of obsidian.

Now shrivel and weak
And how it looks so bleak.

So my heart grew cold
And I gave Her what's left

Because I loved with all I had
But it wasn't enough.