Your soul--the essence of being--long ago carved in cold stone Now caught in the fierceness of your sanctimonious self-imposed solitude yearns to break free Yet, the mind, feverish with the intensity of keeping stone cold composure is keenly wary of icy blue-eyed souls looking for a misstep So, you sit, heart and mind in frozen isolation, awaiting the carvers to chip away at your marbleized existence Only tonight... your laugh echoes strident across the glacial surfaces of your once warm bosom there they had hoped to find coals but instead, cool green kryptonite glows
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