[Tas]

words are for poets,
writers and authors
of which we both are.
smiths of the language
with the quill our arm,
ink our munition,
the page our front line
where battles are fought.
but we don’t need words
where we’re going.

silence is enough,
for you from myself.
I wield words with an
art long forgotten;
subtle and restrained
like spice in the cake,
where yours are more like
the starch that binds it.
but we don’t need words
where we’re going.

the noise can’t describe
what words don’t define.
as much as I search,
answers I can’t find.
but the music is
still ever so sweet
with lyrics from tongue
foreign to my ears.
'cause we don't need words
where we’re going

words are like shadows;
why bother looking
for what won’t be found?
we may never know
what to call it, but
I know what I want:
whatever we have,
wherever it goes.
so we don’t need words—
no, not even one—

we’ll never need words
where we’re going.