Frozen

I fear not death in Herself, its how one would arrive to Death that matters..nothing frightens one than a cold frozen death.
She's dead, they say...but how would i know...her lips are blue the veins bloodless green. but her eyes aflame....woe is me...what is one to do. Should i kiss life into her, but what if the coldness catches onto me..those flames, oh those amber flames draw me but only to get burnt..to die on a pyre what a glorious death. What of her heart..frozen solid...slides about....STAB IT damn it!!!! Stab it...break the ice around it..lets pray the knife would fix it to one place....oh so selfless the poet is.....what is one to do, but it is here where the adventure lies.