Melt

The night’s obscurity’s eclipsed
By the beauty of Princess Snow.
Her many admirers cease all
Activity to watch her glow.
But she’s consumed by the fire
Of envy burning in her heart.
For proudly perched atop a hill,
An ice tower’s more refulgent.
And so she melts.

Captivated and mesmerized,
My eyes no longer being mine,
But having for sole raison d’être
The contemplation of that hill
And the tall tower thereon perched,
That tower o so beautiful
I stand planted and petrified.
No longer can I use my will.
And so it melts.

A force stronger than molten will
Drags me to the feet of the hill.
Slowly sensual on the tower,
My lips start a slow promenade.
But the tower remains of ice,
Indifferent to my every kiss.
My enthusiasm is wounded.
I fall in despair on the ground
And my heart melts.

But what are these small pearls of dew
Adorning thee my tower dear?
And why is now of flesh thy hue
When before it was all of ice?
Emboldened, my lips charge again,
Lighting in you a raging flame,
Which, spreading, slowly consumes you
And makes you collapse in my arms.
I’ve made thee melt.