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“I must confess, that my heart is like a frozen lake, only pretends to be firm, to shroud its tearful ache. So tread over this heart, as often as you like, but one of these days, if it feels your warmth strike; its cold, thin surface will abruptly break asunder, and then it won’t resist from pulling you deep under.” — Akash Mandal
I must confess, that my
heart is like a frozen lake,
only pretends to be firm,
to shroud its tearful ache.
So tread over this heart,
as often as you like,
but one of these days,
if it feels your warmth strike;
its cold, thin surface
will abruptly break asunder,
and then it won’t resist
from pulling you deep under.