With passion they write. Pens, pencils and keyboards an extension of themselves. They will pour their hearts out in a sentence and fill your heart with sorrow in another. They will make your soul sing and your spirit dance. They will play with words and have you in a trance. You will be in a whirl wind of excitement, love and lust. You will experience bliss, joy and maybe even a fleeting moment of happiness like never before. But it is all just the calm before storm.
You see their words are empty. There’s is a skill harnessed over time that preys on malleable minds. Their words are the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. They lay and wait waiting to pounce sinking in their teeth deep into the flesh cresting wounds that might never heal. The weak are most vulnerable. It’s sad because it’s plain to see all you had to do was read in between the lines. Lines you couldn’t see in the first place or didn’t want to. Ignorance is bliss after all – one of them said. The seed that was planted back then to deceive you today.
We are all not cut from the same cloth though but at a point we all walk the same path. Sometimes we mean what we say even when we don’t mean it because it’s had to explain a feeling. Sometimes it’s all real and the passion lights up our hearts too and we dance together rekindled in the beauty of words. Carefully written prose that tells a story of two souls united as one. See what I did there? Those too could just be the emptiness of words. I guess it is the writers curse.