Words, A Finite Set Poem by Zakhele Anigon

Words can fail us
Every moment is unique
But equiped are we with a finite set of words
Tasked to describe the thought and the feeling
That may never be again as is
So we recycle
We recycle words that when spoken forever distort us
Reason's tools to carve and shape raw and crude brain states into expressionable information
That's where art happens
The same thought can be defined and shaped miserably or astonishingly
And the definition stays forever inside of us
Becomes an indistinguishable part of self
There is beauty in intricacy and beauty in simplicity
If in love, love you should announce
Honest, laconic, simple I love you
And if more you feel, more you should announce
Honest, analytic, intricate I want to be inside of you, body and mind till such time that I can no longer find me nor you, only us
You are your own God
Narrating the universe to yourself
So be better than before
Tell yourself the finest of stories
Shape your mind into art by trying again and again until with the rawest of materials you can birth unique beauty
Changing the world begins by changing yourself
And finite the set of words may be
But infinite are their combinations
And by extension so are you
Speech can seem a narrow prison
And it can be, for you are never connected with another mind
But it facilitates expansion
The narrow prison can become, and it should, an infinite palace
Be the King of your palace
The God of your universe