The moment,
When your tongue runs dry,
When all you want to say has been said.
That is the moment my heart lies dead.
Words let me live.
They fill these lungs,
They let me breathe.
For it gives my breath purpose,
And my mind the freedom it needs.
When I have no more opinions left to share,
When I make my poetry tear,
Into shreds on the ground,
That is the moment I am nothing.
That is the moment when everything is but something repeated,
When I am only a replay,
Of my already written,
Already spoken,
Already lived testaments to the world.
That is the moment when my soul dies,
For the day I run out of words,
Is the day I'm too hopeless to find them.
