There’s a House made of Ice
Haunted by sinful vice.
Wilting winter flowers
As frozen frost gate towers.
House is cold and empty
With no lustre of glee.

Lost in the fields of snow
Tears echo in sorrow.
Memories of trauma
Sneak behind like cobra.
House is inhumane
As relationships strain.

To those who reside there
Must be fully aware
There’s a secretive curse
In the House made of Ice.

(c) Jo Swan