Ice

They say I have resigned
to the winter in this heart of mine.

They say I should scream and shout
when I just don't know how to be loud.

They say I should have the desire
to fight and to kindle a fire.
But none of this I feel
my heart is only cold as steel.

Why do they want me to hate?
When arousing this motion means reliving my fate.
I avoid to feel feelings in any form,
knowing they'll devour me in a storm.

The ice inside my soul
was meant to protect me and keep me whole.
Till now I lived inside this shell
quite comfortably and quite well.

Yes, ice statues do easily break,
but kept nice and cold, how much pressure they take!
I learned to love its frozen calm,
inside this ice, I feel so warm...




And yet...

Sure, often I feel out of touch
with the outside world I desire so much.
It would be nice to feel alive at last,
but I've accepted this to stay out of my grasp.
Just outside of my reach,
unless I find me someone to teach
me the knowledge of ways to let go
of that shell that protected me so...


-Ich-