It's the middle of summer,
Yet it's so cold.
As the sun rises,
My vision blures to blackness.
As She carves the heart out my chest.
It feels as if I was like the rest.
So heavy and dark,
Its as She holds a beating piece of obsidian.
Now shrivel and weak
And how it looks so bleak.
So my heart grew cold
And I gave Her what's left
Because I loved with all I had
But it wasn't enough.