Were we born too late? Do our hearts melt to stone as the world gets warmer.

Is love dead? Take me to the grave, I pay my respects. Are hearts born this cold or they freeze when we grow older?

Was I foolish to love, or was I brave for trying? The first cut is the deepest, but how excruciating the healing!

Perhaps, I should've been told...that love lies deep, six feet in the ground, burning in the cold.