I Am, A Word

I am, a word…

I.     I’m witness to phantoms and
       ghasts;
       I’m the key to every young damsel’s
       heart.
       Wars have been waged, heroes
       have been slayed…

II.    A word whence etched leaves a
       mark –
       the pedestal on which the mighty
       stand.
       Thrown into despair is the gentry,
       owing to the sculptor’s flair.

III.  I know not where bards find me,
       and evince in their possession.
       I know not how a sage’s sermon    
       puts one in perplexion.
       I stand by time, and see the reels –
       the many façades, blemished.
       I stand by time, and see the reels –
       how one unto other does bless.

IV.  Till dusk do I weep,
      and weep my throat sore.
      On and on goes the rigmarole,
      until a word is grey and old.

V.   For, if in all eternity, I’ve learnt my
      lessons well –
      The pen that wages wars thus
      stands mightier than the sword.
      May thy mighty pen be blessed with
      many poems;
      A few lovely, a few reminiscent and
      a few in search of hope.

© achillesheelpoetry, 2021

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