Just words... nothing more
The typing continued.
The words bowed to no god,
recognized no restraint.
The words carried with them
an energy, and a viciousness,
and they burned like a fever.
The words shined their light like stars,
probing the corners of a darkness
bereft of any vision.
There was to the
words
a freedom . . .
freedom from
. . . convention
freedom from
. . . despair
freedom from
. . . vulgarity
and freedom from
s
t
u
p
i
d
i
t
y
There was in the words
an honesty held within them.
So as a womb allows growth,
so the
w o r d s
gave birthing room
to new ideas.
It began again.
The typing resumed.
And
the
light
from
the
w o r d s
shined forth
searching the dark.
. . . tap . . . tap, tap . . .
Searching out darkness,
a darkness
which was
dissapeared
with but
a single touch
from the
w o r d s . . .
... tap…tap…tap…
