Burning Ice

White, the purity of all colors, if color it’s named at all

               The blank pages in a book unwritten

               The foams of the sea; the porcelain sands

               The snowflakes that flit and float to the ground

               The stars caught in a velvet sky, the clouds following at dawn

               The twinkling hope in a baby’s eyes

               The smile on the groom’s face

               The dress on the bride

               The veil that covers her face and hair

               Beyond worlds, beyond the known, our heaven

But at the turn of the tide, white has another face

               The blank, nothingness of a maddened mind

               Experiment rooms, testing rooms, antiseptic smell

               The hottest flame that burns your soul

               The scar it leaves afterwards

               The rage of the sea, the angry storm

               The illusion of heaven, for there is none, only Hell

               Ashes…ashes from Hell, burning ice.