Words released me now they unleash me; from nowhere they reach me in an effort to teach me. Words are my redemption, my overzealous temptress; my calm, my storm, my in-between, my indifference. Words my identity embraces my enemy; calms my calamity, succumbs not to humanity. Words determine by choice, can silence a voice; if not be as crucial to exult or anoint. Words I expel as each breath is exhaled; between Heaven and Hell, jail cells, and old wives tales. Words create, tempt fate, test faith, and intimidate; without them my very essence deteriorates. Words are driven yet complacent, as well worn as a pavement; incoherent if you dare to indoctrinate word enslavement. Words begin and end, masquerade and pretend; they dissolve upon contact yet are mentioned again. Words are analytical, detrimental, and unceremoniously critical; the very constitution of my words on paper can be cynical. Bur, these are my words.. “Words” H.M. Travis