She was afraid of opening up.
Because those who have entered did not respect her temple.
They did not make it their home.
Instead, they made a mess and stole all of those lovely things she once wanted to share.

She sits in her home now-- what's left of it; all alone in the dark, surrounded by four walls.
The roof is missing and there are no doors.

There is no escaping this place but, it's the only place she's ever known; she now calls it home.

She sings, she dances, and she prays for better days.

As the nights approach she realizes that just like yesterday, there's no one in sight to save her.

It seems to be getting colder and the rain is starting to pour.
But, where can she go if her home no longer has doors.

She has no choice but, to contemplate her life and continue to pray.

It's getting to cold for her to breath and the water is building up.

She's frozen and unable to move; unable to swim or stay afloat.
Even if she could float, how long would she last?

Not long enough until the water evaporates.
Not long enough to make it.

She's given up.
She's disappeared before the water has.

She's given up.
No one is coming to save her.
But she cannot blame them.
Her home no longer had doors for anyone to enter. Even if it did, no one would even come to visit with the mess that's been left.

Her heart, soul and body are too cold for hands to touch. She's too cold for anyone to hold her; too cold for anyone to warm her.

With her last breath she says, "I would've been able to put up a better fight if someone was brave enough to stand by my side."

It's too late now; there is nothing left of her but, ice.