The words shift in silence into none,
Powerful tools.
The way that it moves and scars the body,
Is insufficient.
More and more is needed.
And less and less is bought.
The pages in which ink seeps through
Grow old and ugly with a pretty fast rate.
Let's go and wander,
Never in sight but always in mind.
Guess letters don't make a word.
Maybe the dark Ocean with high pressure does.
Say, is it the darkness that shines the light in beauty....
or,
is it light that casts a darkness that does...
Gotta say words are not a thing.
Ink is evidently existing.
Pages are not created they are formed.
Gotta say that most ocean waters are not explored
Just water is evident.
Guess that's how words work , just there in pages
Not bothering to feel more that what it is seen.
YOU ARE READING
The Maze of Curiosities
PoetryPoetry is a writing of passion And a lonely fashion Hated by most But something to toast. This writing would be heaven And a worth given lesson To anyone out there To become bare And be Rare. How may you ask? Leave your mask Forget its existen...
