What is there to words?
Any value at all
To the things and ideal, now defined
Or is it all just illusion
Just a source of confusion
As words being used leave us blind?

The value’s in speaker
As a matter of course
For the usage of words can be dumb
Those without understanding
Their mouths ever expanding
All their use of great words leave us numb.

Consider those words
Being spoken again
But by monarch, of heart or of land
Do the words still ring hollow
As your heart and ear follow
Every whisper of voice, ever grand?

Those who say that our words
Are lacking in strength
Are ignorant of the greatest of arms
For they cut down great might
Or rally millions to fight
Aided only by sounds and by charms.

These lines are not scribbles
In a void of nonsense
But instead take them as a small hint:
The words of an age
Spoken on a world stage
Conceal deep within, a blueprint.



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