The Day The Words Died Poem by March Nicks

Imagine a world where every word
Ever spoken, ever written, ever uttered;
Simply faded away.
Just into the ether, leaving not a trace.
Nothing for us to follow,
No clues to help us search
For the very meaning of our essence.
Our very existence struggling
Because the proof of who we are
Has vanished.

We open the covers of a book,
Where letters once danced across the page
Painting pictures we could only imagine.
Vowels fall silent, consonants crumble.
No more sentences to spread their meaning,
Instead replaced by a sentence of ignorance.

The mind is a desolate wasteland
That invites no train of thought
To make any stops here.
The stations all boarded up
By those who intended
to protect the innocent
With their arrogance.

No journeys into the mind's eye
Instead the vision is clouded
By a lack of understanding
What our true power is.
We are the stewards of thinking
Of understanding
Of being human.
But what comes of Human kind
When our words have died