Words

I sought with lilting lyrics and fragile verse,
A meter to dissolve eternal rocks and granite,
A rhyme to shake and tremble,
Warm life to dead marrows bones.

I sought a song to loosen ancient colours,
A weeping melody to bleed from boundaries,
New courses from crumbling banks,
And oils to seep and drip new worlds.

I hoped with a dusty dancing jig,
Under dim lit dipping southern skies,
To find a florescent dream by my side,
With room enough to breathe

But words are not meant for fighting,
In khaki uniforms, and scientist white,
They are quickly hollowed and filled with lead,
And sink to rest with ashes' grace.

Words are here to tickle and tease,
Not be marched under argument's banners,
But to beguile and confuse and twin us together,
Until silence becomes not night but heaven's bright sun.