In a house as cold as stone,
Two lovers cease to hold each other.
There are no comforting words,
Only bitter exchanges,
Used when the children aren't around,
Or can't understand.
In a house as cold as stone,
Harsh words fall on sensitive ears,
Only pretending not to care,
Horrible names pierce their hardened hearts,
One trying to best the other in their twisted game.
In a house as cold as stone,
Children try to understand,
To grasp what they know nothing of,
Because they can't know what it's like to be in love,
And then suddenly,
Not.
No, children cannot know,
But they can wonder.
They can wonder why Mommy and Daddy are so quiet,
Why they don't smile anymore.
They can wonder where the love has gone,
And why their lives,
Once as warm and sure as the sun,
Are now as dark and terrifying as nights spent staring into closets,
Searching for signs of lurking monsters.
In a house as cold as stone,
People often forget the feelings of others,
Except when remembering that they can be toyed with,
Hurt.
Unforgiving glances are thrown every which way,
With no consideration as to where they might land.
In a house as cold as stone,
There are no victory cries,
No joyous proclamations of prevailing affection.
There are no tender moments,
No meaningful looks.
People often freeze to death in houses such as these.
There is no hope of rekindled love,
In a house as cold as stone.