Poems

My apologies about the lack of reflections the past few days. I will do my best to post one later this morning. For now, I can offer two poems, both written in the last two days:

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There is no way to say
what should remain unsaid,
And in that quiet space,
Our souls become barren and dead.

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In the crystal shadows of melting ice
I see a life, like light, shining
forth in fine splendor.

It is the beginning of the end,
and felt, but barely, by those
staring deep into the ice.

The ice lies in its lucid brilliance,
hiding the evil and broken lives
its sweet chill creates.

So soft, the skin of those lies.
Pristine, shining, scented sweetness
of promised ice.

It does not feel, but hunts its prey,
fueled by the silent delight
of drowning in the ice.