PROGRESSION
The ice queen,
She's clearing out her lair,
Step inside if you should dare.
Her heart is melting slowly,
it really needs to beat some more,
it's pumping passion,
love and lust,
it's a sad heart,
bleeding real tears.
It needs a good supply of love,
given from a chocolate box,
clutched only in a satin glove.

She needs the sky to melt,
maybe fall as sweetly scented rain,
not snow or hail.

All Hail, the ice queen,
She who bringeth,
Feelings forth and fiery,
Digs up lost emotions,
Devoted to love,
Maybe,
if she can shake off sorrow,
like a wet dog in the rain.
Plough the fields and scatter,
make new love once again.

"Come unto my parlour", said the spider to the fly.
(C) Livvi