Fine crystal dancers twirl from obscure skies,
To pirouette amongst dark, barren trees.
And dress the land in elegant disguise,
Carried upon winter's crisp Arctic breeze.
Dreary life is covered in pristine white,
That gives refuge to filth and dirty shame.
Exposed guilt enjoys a reprieve from sight,
As frosty ballerinas stake their claim.
But when their performance is complete,
And the world sits back in quiet awe,
The Ice Queens take a bow and then retreat,
To reveal truth as snow begins to thaw.
Purity soon melts completely away,
To again betray the damp, old decay.