Oh, words, <br />you were empty vessels <br />grazing on virgin hillsides, <br />transparent to the sun. <br /> <br />Conscripted and sentenced <br />to forced marches, <br />charging into no-man's land, <br /> <br />you forgot who you were. <br />Repent, words. Remember. <br />Purify yourselves. <br /> <br />Find those white wings. <br />Fly up and out <br />a chimney in the heart, <br /> <br />on a dark night <br />when no one sees.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fall-of-language/
