I wonder how words can pierce
the core of our hearts.
Maybe it is these hollow words which
resonate with the hollow heart.
Each day, each night the ocean grows deeper
The emptiness is scratched and dug,
With bogus oaths leaving us in an appalling dusk.
Is it easier said than done?
Then why do I find saying, the most difficult?
Maybe it is this murk that turns people into a cynical.
It is only action that can heal
As for the words- they break,
Raping us, of all our zeal.
It is all pretense and lies in a misty guise,
As the words know no wisdom,
It is the meaning that does.
They are empty; they are worthless.
Exactly like the sound of 'word' itself,
Lacking in firmness.