From the window of my house of cards,
A mirror dies in broken shards.
Powdered paridise, traced in snow,
Safe inside a wreckless glow.
Seen by some, a youths mistake,
But finds the snow queen wide awake.
So falls the precious, crystal sand,
Into a trembling, outstretched hand.
Tis she who knows, her weakened prey,
The Snow queen knows......
And she waits for me.