WORDS

Mostly simple but heavily pregnant,
Like paint and brush to an artist,
Like dice in the hand of a player,
Their turnover depends on wield.
Two fields claw at one another,
One carrying motive,
To intentionally pierce,
And pierce she does;
Or to encourage, strengthen,
And surely does.
The other bearing thoughtless words,
With no plan to hurt,
Yet hurts deeply, unforgettably;
Or without agenda to enlighten,
But paves way for the next star.
Sharper than swords,
More lethal than bullets,
More deadly than poison,
More precious than gold,
More heartwarming than the sun,
They shy away from two eyes,
Dodge two ears,
And emanate from one mouth.

Picture courtesy of www.wordle.com