Fueling smoke with more incense,
Or is that part of my soul, my essence?
I smell it burning, slowing dying,
But there isn’t much to do;
Am I really trying?
I thought it was a blade,
That would end my life.
Or maybe a car crash,
Or cancer that would finally strike.
Whatever it maybe be,
I knew it to be strong.
How else could it end,
This life I wish to live long?
What a fool I was!
To look out for rocks.
They were what I expected
To breaks this house of glass.
What I didn’t think
Was that I’m a creature of the night.
And I could be hurt,
By something as soft as sunlight.
It whispered to me, soft words:
Words that cut, words that burn.
Strong I may have been;
But weak I was of heart.
So simple words hurt me hard.
The most powerful things in this world are words.
They have the power to create and to destroy.
They may build something as beautiful as a poem or they may destroy someone you love.
Use them cautiously.