Sandy Star: Sculptured Worship

The zones of warmth around his heart, No alien airs had crossed; But he awoke one morn to feel The magic numbness of autumnal frost.

His thoughts were a loose skein of threads, And tangled emotions, vague and dim; And sacrificing what he loved He lost the dearest part of him.

In sculptured worship now he lives, His one desire a prisoned ache; If he can never melt again His very heart will break.