All my words are born from thought,
Echoes of the light they’ve caught.
I can’t think in silent streams —
Words alone can shape our dreams.
And when you believe — truly believe —
Thoughts break free and start to weave,
Knocking softly on closed-up hearts,
Leaving love where healing starts.
Word — like wings, word — a sword,
With a word, you ignite the world.
It holds the truth, the wound, the flame —
A voice from earth that none can tame.
Thoughts are birds, they won’t be chained,
Fleeing fast from cages strained,
Longing to turn into sound and fire,
To speak of dreams we lost to mire.
I’m no sage, my thoughts not new,
But they shine like morning dew.
If you hear them with your soul,
You will understand me whole.
Word — like wings, word — a sword,
With a word, you ignite the world.
It holds the truth, the wound, the flame —
A voice from earth that none can tame.
But should you turn away in scorn,
Lock the door, your patience worn —
I’ll bow to you, with quiet breath:
“Perhaps the hour is not here yet.”
Then I’ll go seek another flame,
So many souls still lost to shame.
To quit? I can’t. This fire is true:
Every mortal is friend — or brother too.
Word — like wings, word — a sword,
With a word, you ignite the world.
That fire, once born, will never dim —
For the word is the bridge between us and Him