They Won’t Come

The words won’t come,

No matter how hard I search.

I remain blank in disbelief,

As the words echo in the distance.

I know they are there,

But they are not for me,

They are not meant to be shared,

Or spoken.

They linger in the field,

And atop the trees,

As they dance in the moonlight,

But they are not for me.

Or you.

Or anyone.

They are made to be free,

To be let go,

To travel to the heavens.

Words with power,

And grace,

And hope dangle out of reach.

The beauty they hold within their letters,

Say more than the words alone.

Lost in a sea of darkness,

Guided only by the spark from within.

Never let your light go dark.

Darkness steals more than words.

Never let it win.

Never.