A Tribute to Words

I wonder if we pay, a price for the words that we say, that we write,

If so, then what instead, is taken away?

Are our souls traded with the devil for these words?

Or do we trade with angels instead?

For these words we write, make us glad, make us cry,

And in their own way travel with us in our minds.

Each step we take, every rash decision is inspired by words in our heads,

Whispered in our ears, in our mouths while we kiss and in the languid breaths we take.

The novels we hold, the people we love are all made of words so profound

That even the stars themselves are speechless in their presence.

With each word we write, with each word we say, a feather sprouts on our backs,

And a piece of our mind is taken away.

In the end when we fall, we are but a shell of a person,

The wings on our backs, our only support.

Throughout all this, let me remind you,

That our hearts, remain intact.