Friday, March 25, 2011

Day 17, Sonnet 17

These words alone much nourishment provide

For leaves of books, like sustenance, fulfill.

The anxious thoughts do waver and subside

When deftly woven tales such joy instill.

Would that I could subsist on words alone,

And press their meanings up against my tongue

To feel each syllable inside my bones

As breathy vowels expand these hungry lungs.

But words alone heal not these gaping wounds

For they were not the weapons that destroyed

‘Twas brutal touch that left this body strewn

In meaninglessness’ ever-aching void.

Let words help heal, but let them not o’ertake

A silence' power to damaged souls remake.

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