Ah, the blessed words!
The rhythm they create
Shields me from the world's hate
Gives me wings to float and soar
And see the peace that's nevermore
FREEDOM
is born in their sound
If all knew this
Peace would abound
But instead the sound is twisted
ABUSED
mangled for dictator's use
Insteading of building they tear down
A hideous, keening, wailing sound
Instead of making, they destroy
The world as they view it
is their toy.
BUT NO!
Words are good
Oh, why are we misunderstood?
Is our tongue a blessing or curse?
To speak or not to speak?
What is worse?
The ones who use words for malice?For pain?For their own selfish gain?
Or those who seek to help another? Not realizing words can smother?
Perhaps Fate truly exists
And we serve no purpose in all this.