Shall I give myself to words, for there are none that would seek to wound? It is not words that bring pain but the intent with which they are used.
With voice I may speak but without words am unheard, lost and left to float without tether in a world filled with white page. But a voice carries only the message; it is words that provide a window to the soul.
When I write, my words flow with a burning passion, leaving me bare and abandoned to those who would read my lines. My words are from my heart – free from the pollution of mindful endeavour, genuine and sincere.
With flourish and invention, words may stimulate, educate and inform. I am surrounded by those things that I would wish to know and through words I may become more.
Words are without ambition; they are bereft of thought and give no time to agenda. It is not words that steal from love or strive to fuel the misdeeds of man – this is human nature.
Words are the life blood of verse! With the drumming, rhythmical flow of a heart beat I may flood the air with my dreams and immerse the world in all that I was, am and shall be.
Let this dam be broken and with it let rise a flood of emotion and thought from an ocean raging with storm.
I have embraced words and now give myself to the page. Read of me through those things that I write and know I have given you who that I am and would always wish to be.