Cold Cold Heart...

Frustration and anger are her weapons
Threaded together with a tongue of lies.

Not accountable to anyone, not even herself

Destruction are her breadcrumbs, trailing
up to her shallow and empty life.

Fuel is her appetite for more, she can't
stop, needs to play the whore.

Her cold cold heart beats like fingers
wrapping on stone, she must keep going never to atone.

A remedy to this I do not know, no human
power can be in His stead

A miracle for today
would be this life set un-astray

Jesus, warm her heart, show us
your part.

For I know no other miracle you could do,
except to change this life so foreign to You.