Words, too often repeated, spilling from our lips

Tend to lose the meaning our heads want them to hold

And the truth our hearts so desperately want them to have.

They crash like bullets onto fragile trust,

Destroying its body, shattering it into a thousand glittering pieces,

A beautiful display of death.

But the words, too awe-stricken by the display, do not realize the flaw,

A most fatal one they constantly instigate.

These words tend to act on most terrible whims, you see.

Seizing the moment.

Whenever it feels right, they come forth and sing from mountaintops of an almost certain falsehood.

As long as lies sound beautiful no one is getting hurt for the moment.

If trust is already destroyed there is nothing to fret about.

These words

These promises

Too often repeated

Are devoid of any meaning at all.