Words always
Bubbled/churned/roiled
A Tempest ruling this kingdom,
From the rolling hills of Coccyx
to the jagged peaks of Hyoid
Empire builders, Untamed by borders,
Slick with amniotic fluid and unpolished
Shot poker-hot off my tongue, flooded past my lips in a torrent,
Magnetized my fingertips, compelled them across the keys.
Waging an open ended war of words.
Until one day,
The final word slipped through my lips.
No trumpet call, no battle cry
Can rouse my fallen army.
The battle lulls, uneasy with lack of troops
Viscous stillness,
But not
Peace.