Words Are Useless

I dreamt of words that free and that bind
Of words from heart and words from mind
Words so cruel, words so kind
Words that reveal, words that blind

I dreamt of words bitter and sweet
Of words that fool and words that teach
Words better read, words made for speech
Words of small consequence, words of far reach

I dreamt of words of love and hate
Of words that destroy and words that create
Words of agreement, words of debate
Words that bring together, words that separate

I dreamt of words of hope and light
Of words crouched in weakness, words standing in might
Words that feel wrong, words that feel right
Words from the unrepentant, words from the contrite

I dreamt of words hidden within screams
Of words about reality and words about dreams
Words respectable, words obscene
Words that err, words that redeem
Words filled with sorrow, words full of glee
Words of generosity, words of greed

I dreamt of words that praise and defame
Of words that alter and words that stay the same
Words excitingly mad, words boringly sane
Words that don’t stick, words that remain
Words of pride, words of guilt and shame

I dreamt of words of anger and reprimand
Of words that give and words that demand
Words of the sea, words of the land
Words small and simple, words complicated and grand

I dreamt of words whispered and yelled
Of words organised and words thrown pell-mell
Words all in motion, words that stood still
Words of friendly greeting, words of sad farewell

I dreamt of words of peace and war
Of words despised and words adored
Words from the present, words from before
Words for tomorrow and forever more

I dreamt of words of prose and rhyme
Of words of innocence and words of crime
Words for forgetting, words to remind
Words of dark sin, words pure and divine

I dreamt of words of ugliness and beauty
Of words irresponsible and words of duty
Words that spoke of desire, words that poured with need
Words burning in passion, words hollow in apathy

I dreamt of words and they consumed me whole
Stripped me down and laid bare my soul
And when I woke, I woke in pain
For the very last thing they spelled was, “Words without action…
…are words in vain.”

Inspired by a strange dream, where I could take hold of words. Some slipped from my hands, some were in bold, others normal. Different fonts, meanings, textures. Jolted awake and wrote as much as I could before I couldn’t any more. Continued throughout the day. Changing, adding. Here’s the final cut. There’s no particular order, really, except the structure of the verses.