Every fire that's consumed it
Has gone cold and left it charred,
And every arrowhead that's pierced it
Has left it bleeding out and marred.

No love has it received
That was not done so with great pain,
And none has it yet given
That has not it wrung and drained.

Now no young man's embrace
Offers me warmth that I can feel,
For now my heart is guarded
By a cold permafrost shield.