Teased; by a nasty Rebus,
A dazed reflection surfaced,
Urging; me to pen it down.
Fingers rolled on their own,
For a verse eager; in search of words.
In quest of an utterance,
Endless yet, heartbreakingly fragile.
An Autograph of love; Sealed
With, Token of gratitude,
A Music of Solace; Nursed
To be, A sign of Affection,
An Emblem of thought; Adapting
Varied, Expression of emotions.
Stretching for perfection;
An illusion, many say.
Deliberating; as I sit,
On the soil; barefoot.
Getting a Glimpse; of survival,
As you see, a tiny grass;
Rolling as the wind blows.
Battling to survive;
Stretching To Steal;
A few more moments.
Seeing this while;
Embracing music,
From the flowing river; nearby.
Threading strings of,
Tangled reviews; to my grounded self,
Whereas masking susceptibility;
With a face; Quiet as the ocean.
Regardless of all these,
Only \'Words\'? Rolled as a verse.
Listening to this, Winds
Whispered, an Eluded Saga,
Five letters tumbled,
Form a word called WORDS.
Seeing them, the lingering letters
Became nosy;
Harmonized Themselves,
Created new words;
Pertinent as they may seem.
Thereupon, marked the beginning,
Of this unending process.
Now, when the flashbacks hit,
A Quill serves as a tool,
As we write on a crisp; Sheet,
Being more patient;
Then, Humans; we scribble,
Tipping like HOPE,
In that tiny dot;
On this sheet.
Ironically,
The Deadliest Wound,
The Sharpest Blade,
The Transparent Reflector,
The Sweetest Confection,
And Also,
The most Sacred Remedy,
Only words can be.
After all, Words are still,
The most trusted; Bargain
In this world.
-bubblehead95.