So maybe I'd be right to say,
That hearts of glass will crack and break,
Or melt in the sun at a single touch,
With all the love, they couldn't take,
And hold within the homes they make,
Inside themselves.

And if my heart is truly glass,
Close enough, near opaque,
Perhaps its safer to keep it secured,
Locked beneath the flowing lake,
Covered up with feelings fake,
From inside myself. 

But then, this feeling, 
So sudden upon my being,
Brought firmamental blizzards to my eyes,
And as I shook, I thought I heard a crack,
To my surprise. But who could know,
Or even care, in such a moment.