Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Words

Scribe tell me your story
Pen out every word with precision
Steady as a surgeons blade
The power of the tongue hitting every mark
Instructing every mind
Changing every heart
Like precious apples of gold
Set in silver settings
The word goes out to rest within men
Ancient words
As old as Ancient days itself
Will not return empty
But fill every empty void

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