by allisonkujiraoka

Words belie the truth, or they are the truth.

Guilty of love or gratitude,

they are a crime in absentia.

Mighty to cut or heal,

to burn or purify,

to vow or to lie.

Worlds and wars are formed by no less;

consolation hides in nothing more.

The lifted pen is an unwilling accessory to

tears or bloodshed,

a heavy burden to push across the page.

Hold it with respect,

pledge to wield it fruitfully.