Rise and Fall of the Poet

Although he did not know it It was the rise and fall of this poet. Words are a universal language all by itself It could take you to heaven, or bring you down to hell. Words are like rivers, streams and oceans Moving freely with emotion. The slightest ripple is a creation Of love, joy, sadness and devastation. Everyone is different from each other Opening poets mind- making him wonder. Now his mind has become like a glazier Frozen at a complete stand still Or moving so slowly without direction Not knowing love, not knowing affection. Will it melt and become like the flowing Waters once again? Or will this be the final end?