Harmful Truths

There were harmful truths all around and the snow covered them all.
Sweet winter in the quit of the morning. Pale from the first lie and cold from the silence.
When daggers of sun rays splintered off from the ice and frost gripped it's translucence on every Window we couldn't see them, but there they were.
In the spring, that is when we shouldn't have been caught unawares. Words can kill.
Secrets, sweet secrets only hide harmful truths.

So the summer and now the rain. Pain. Is that what was meant to be?
Sweeping on the front porch never saying a word. Kill no one.
Push dust of autumn. Eaten by the soil. And then turned crystal from cold.
Then water. When spring comes. Sinking deeper and deeper. We can bury. Dead.
No more words. That is how it should be; that is the nature of how it should be.
And then only are we safe.
Underneath the snow are harmful truths.

And they came. In the spring we were caught unaware.
Grow words in the warm that could kill.
Never bury harmful truths.