The Words

It’s here within the words I want to write
But ask me where and I will merely shrug
It hides from every soul who thinks they might
Uncover graves of words they never dug

I found you in the grass among the stones
I found you searching for a word to say
In language made of nothing more than tones
You stole the word that tried to get away

I found you like the dew discovers grass
And swore I’d wear the rhythm of your heart
Yet now that you and I have come to pass
I fear we must surrender to the Art

The Art portrays the story we’ll become
And gives the hidden joys of kingdoms come.

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