The Icy Tomb

A man who has lost his love describes visiting her tomb.

There she lies in her cold gray tomb

Her hair, A golden waterfall against the stone

Skin pale as the snow outside her ghastly womb

Dress white as the skin which strikes my bone

There in that tomb lies one of life's cruelest turns

What was once there filled with fiery life

Now frigid as the icy tomb where she interns

I am now cold inside where once I burned

Lost among the cacophony of life's bristling thorns

Without the guide of which all of life I yearned

Left alone in the snow, I am now scorned.