When words shape the world
In whispers soft or thunder loud,
Words rise like mist, escape the shroud.
A fleeting phrase, a gentle tone,
Can build a palace—or strip to bone.
They dance through air, unseen yet strong,
The echoes ripple, hearts belong.
Shaping realms of truth or lies,
Crafting hope, or breaking ties.
In ink they march, as soldiers bold,
In every story ever told.
An oath, a vow, a fabled rhyme—
They bend the arc of space and time.
Each sentence seeds the soils anew,
Where wisdom blooms, and dreams pursue.
They bridge divides, erase the line,
Or paint the walls where stars align.
Oh, wield your words with tender grace,
They carve the paths the world will face.
For though the winds may break or mend,
The voice of words will never end.