next the protagonist came across a house in which lived a Duchesswho was while beautiful colder than the Arctics

emotion was farthest from this women’s touches 

sucking happiness and joy in her own River Styx 
some wonder, ponder how could a women live so cold

colder than the frostiest of snowmen, than the darkest of Alaskan nights

for her own misery was simple to behold

until rarely her own feeling ignites
because how could one seems so flamed but being so chilled

the protagonist couldn’t help but to learn the story of the duchess 

and how the women’s heart was killed

how she could not rebuild
one of true sorrow it would seem

for she was scarred and left to bleed

and she was left to scream

a secret she couldn’t plead
like any other injury 

she morned a silent pain

a life of constant worry

that such traumatic action would reoccur
and listen to the story of the duchess

and what could she take

for pain away all she could touch 

so wore a face that clearly was fake
it would amaze, how others would never notice

the trouble and struggle to be happy 

to feel hopeless

now that’s a heavy load to carry
so what did the protagonist learn

that one must become emotionless to exist

if not than your feelings will burn

a flame of endless fire that can’t be dismissed
yet wouldn’t it be folly

to follow the steps of one so lost

taking a trip in a empty trolley through a empty valley