I built a throne to hold my heart

Once on a day of ice and cold I set out to build my home a throne Dead cold pricked my skin And reminded me of its breath I sat upon a polished rock of guilt But that to wanted me dead Through more nights and days then I could count I built the best seat in man Not gold it was made from, thorns and courage Told stories of history to keep it intact Alone late spring, it felt no longer hostile Hopes and dreams sewn in a seat of roses It smiled to me from a distance And brought warmth to my home My castle of history built on senile stone Now turned into gardens of beautiful greens The wind brushed my hair gently And I felt the warmth of it hold me And ask me my name.