Pain surrounds my already dying heart,
like hounds on a hunt, chasing the hare.
They say the truth shall set you free,
truth or not, tis killing me.
Fear of being hurt,
by those I trusted most,
locks me in it's icy grasp,
my dying heart draws the final gasp.
Trembling cold, while I stand here alone,
the deadly pain numbs my very soul to the bone.