I watch flames consume a logo on TV, but I know there is much worse to be done to such icons.

Fire warms, nourishes; passions burn as they drive us to create, succeed, love, sacrifice.

Cold ice destroys, blocks, freezes the passion that struggles within.

Chain fences lock me in, barring my body from the world without. I try to look into the hole in my soul, and I find myself, cold as ice, blocking my way.

Is my fight with myself? Must I face this battle, two mirrors staring at each other? Can I win this struggle and find my answers, or is my only hope surrender? Is this a solo conflict, or is the only resolution come with help? Does another hold the key to boring through the barrier that is me, and filling the void in my soul?

Who is she, this catalyst? Is there one to fuel the fire, ignite my passions, and melt the part of me that is cold and selfish? What if I've already met her, know her, but failed to kindle a spark of her interest, in my iciness?

I've met a few who burn bright, their vividness a beacon, a hint of hope. With a burning kiss that has not come, I may melt on her lips, opening the door to unknown potential. What inferno awaits in soul's abyss, what passion, what love seeks egress behind the frigid sentinel?

Do I deceive myself yet again? Am I reaching out, grasping false hope only to burn my fingers? Am I an icy barrier, warding off oblivion in passion overwhelming? Is my fate as an ice cube plunging into a volcano, or a glacier moving inexoirably over a candle?