Once, my life I would have given, for the man of driven snow.
Purity in heart and crying soul, laced only with pure lunacy.
Provided by distillery.

He was beautiful, a gentle man, but, truly is a mental man.
My glasses misted with dripping love and body heat, bi-laterally
What a silly little girl I was, old and nearly grey, a wild child still wanting play.
In need of taming, but never whipping.
(C) LIVVI