In the middle of nowhere a wooden trap door can lead you to the heart.
The cold and quiet creeps like snakes slivering all over you're body,
The weak shall wither, the strong will shiver, but who will get the crown?
When one collapses, their will shattered all over the ground,
Their bodies lay still and silent, the ice surrounds the sound.
And now they are part of the heart.
And you realize this didn't rhyme at all.