I taste a word on my tonge
Sing it until completley sung
Say it until it can not be said
Until the word itself, is dead
I summon the broken phrases,
Bind them down, in metal cases
Hold them under chains and wire
Then burn them out, like wild fire
I hunger after outward word, and inner meaning
Not all absurd, they stand straight not leaning
This stanza I write, this phrase I weild
Painfully, I endeavour to sheild,
The empty truths within the piece itself
I race with letters of unmatched stealth
Pining for honesty on the funeral pyre
Words are my truth, so I "churn them out like wild fire"
© Copyright 2016 walkingonfate. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Fantasy
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