My words are gone

Only a trembling remains

In my hands, slight epilepsy

In my eyes, a silent burst

Of emptied mind

Of thoughts no more.



For gone are the words

Flung away letter by letter

Torn off, screeching, screaming

Taken to the recesses

Burnt alive

Hacked to pieces

Crushed and then buried.


They lie under the earth

Not breathing anymore

Not hearing the sighs

Nor feeling the caress

Of the motherly winds



But not yet dead.


Waiting, patiently, tirelessly

To be believed in

By dreams and hopes

So that they can start

Create and make

When things need a shake.