Work Text:
Words. They get in our way,
Though we speak them every day.
Be they empty with nothing to convey,
Or raw baring our sparks for display.
Simple words, kind words, words without end,
All awaiting the stroke of my pen,
Across the universe to you they would wend,
To be my voice if I were but to send.
Fear to us is not unknown,
We do reap what we have sown.
This time its grip turn me stone,
To it my courage now lies prone.
Dare I give voice to zeal hidden deep,
And grasp for things I should never seek,
Give freedom to words I dare not speak?
For lovers to fall they must first leap.
One thing is left that I must do,
A final confession to be made true,
In place of myself these words must do,
To tell you simply, I love you.