• Goddess of Love, j'accuse! I know you take
    Many souls and leave fire in your wake;
    You feed poor icy people straight to Hell.
    You doubt that I could know you quite so well?
    I've seen it done; I've had it done to me!
    While tangled in your thorns I've watched it be
    A game; you think of it as a project,
    For mortals will attach to any object
    Of desire, as long as it remains.
    But ah! Dear Goddess! Herein lies the game:
    Those lovely mortals, so icy and cold,
    You steal them and teach them of things untold;
    You melt them through and through, right to the core
    (Since otherwise for you it'd be a bore)
    And watch them try to deal with heat and flame,
    Equivalent to seeing them writhe in pain,
    For ice does not know fire, nor fire ice.
    And so they are thus trapped in such a vice:
    A world in hell where no one ever wins;
    Where everyone is forced to face their sins
    Before their judgement day. How cruel a fate!
    I cannot leave this issue for debate.
    For Aphrodite, you've caused us such grief!
    I've felt things far beyond any belief,
    But worst of all: I've come to see you there,
    Laughing and watching with a mocking stare.
    And now, I see the fire round my soul.
    To see the flames that hurt and burn me so
    Is quite unsettling. 'twas from the start!
    And countless times you've tried to strike my heart.
    I'm not so proud. I'll admit, you've succeeded.
    Why? Because you knew just what I needed.
    I need love, the power you control,
    Something to let my cold demeanor go.
    But now I know the truth! It's not delight
    That causes you to act but thoughts of spite!
    There's something in my chill and innocence
    that makes you shake and quake in mortal skin.
    My simple skin and hair and mouth and eyes
    All seem to you like sinful little lies,
    And from familiar itch you burn the "sins".
    Quickly! Before I freeze you from within.
    Unfortunately few mortals think this way.
    They'd rather be directed to the fray
    Where blood and sweat and tears find some purchase
    In things that never turn out to be worth it.
    Oh, how you laugh! And smile at us and scorn
    When before you, tired and very worn,
    We come to you and beg you for a drink
    of ice and dark so we can rest and think,
    And recollect our thoughts. But you deny.
    You kick us back; ignore us when we cry.
    Frost says the world will end in ice or fire.
    I think he's wrong; it will end in desire
    For things we cannot have; in short for love.
    And so I ask for help from far above:
    Dear Guardian! Shield me with strong wings from flames
    That in myself alone I can't contain,
    And lend me help and safety, head to toe,
    For I'd rather be cold and dark alone.