Cold Fire Poem by Dean Koontz

In the real world
as in dreams,
nothing is quite
as it seems.

Life without meaning
cannot be borne.
We find a mission
to which we're sworn
- or answer the call
of Death's dark horn.
Without a gleaning
of purpose in life,
we have no vision,
we live in strife,
- or let blood fall
on a suicide knife.

Nowhere can a secret keep
always secret, dark and deep,
half so well as in the past,
buried deep to last, to last.

Keep it in your own dark heart,
otherwise the rumors start.

After many years have buried
secrets over which you worried,
no confidant can then detray
all the words you didn't say.

only you can the exhume
secrets safe within the tomb
of memory, of memory,
within the tomb of memory.

Vibrations in a wire.
Ice crystals
in a beating heart.
Cold Fire.

A mind's frigidity:
frozen steel,
dark rage, morbidity.
Cold Fire.

Defense against
a cruel life
death and strife:
Cold Fire.