Words

[Shamino]

These are worth the ink it would take to print. Worth the space they take up on the page. They are worth speaking, and thusly, they are the very words that mean something. Words however must have purpose. These words, describe no purpose.



Even now I feel them dying. Stories, characters, ideas and ideals. Scenario's, campaign's, luxuries and poverties. They are removed from me just as much as you are removed from them. These brilliant words that die with every stroke of the pen, every stroke of the key, every movement of the eye. They die. This is how I feel, every day.

I feel like the ideas die with every person. With every genious, with every gifted child, and with every fanatic. Who chooses what words are important? What words are intriguing? It is the common pattern of thought. You think the same as someone else, and they too, think like someone else, thusly you also think like them. This gives words power. With power comes the ability to change. You place down words, they will mean nothing by themselves. If people read. If people listen... Your words have meaning. Words with meaning do more damage than any sword, or any bullet, or any bomb. The stroke of the pen becomes more deadly than any turnkey.

They become immortal. Never dying, always living. Always being used and thought of. They become what everyone wants to be.

Legendary.

[Dale]

True. But with every word brings new thoughts, and new ideas. So they are not infact dying, they are thriving