Words.
Hollow echoing empty.
Tons of words.
Bumbling. Crashing. Cacophonic. Catastrophic!
Hollow empty words.
An eternal race.
Between the thoughts,
And the words.
A race lost.
Blame it on the words.
The empty words?
No! They are warriors on a mission.
Doing up the thoughts in pastels.
Layering them in meaningless blabber.
Covering up with art.
For stripped off the layers
they are stark dark vulnerable.
Words know...
the World loves Strong.
So there is no choice but win.
Out run the thought. Catch, cover,
kickback or just drown them.
The thoughts.
Before the damage.
Before the heart is laid bare.
The jeers or the utter disgust,
the exasperation teamed with taunts,
At various stages of the race?
Acceptable. For all of these are but
a small collateral damage in
the bigger picture.
Win the mission.
Protect the heart.
