Behind These Words

My pen is a marvelous tool. With it I lay words on a flat, Lifeless surface. Words, alive as a beloved heart. Words, dead as a forsaken corpse. Such a beautiful art. It is the art of the suppressed, The silenced. It is the entrance to one's mind and soul. Behind these words are ineffable feelings. Feelings that once dominated The fiery red furnace of my heart And the vast blue ocean of my mind. Behind these words is a labyrinthine mind, Beautiful in its complexity. Soldiers sent out, Searching for a purpose, Into this war-torn world By their ruthless king And high above a divine ruler, Answering their prayers And deciding their fate.