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 glacier

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?