Most of the world tends to take over our hearts
And turn us inside out and outside in
Nourishing the spots in our minds that bleed hatred, fear, and weakness
While endlessly working to contaminate the parts where everything that is good resides
Until a dungeon of ice conquers the very place your heart used to call home
Void of any passion and empathy you had left in that measly little room behind your ribs
Consumed by a hatred so deep
It freezes anything good it can keep