Solar Circuitry

If my mind were poisoned
And that causes words to lose
All their meaning.
Where is this well of magic to help
Reinvigorate the senses.
At what point could any language become
So obsolete.
Where you brand the worlds wisdom 
As esoteric by trade.
Like a corn at the ball of your foot,
Or thorn on your side.
As I silently observe from outside
My purple box of emotions.
What will I not see come the future.
What will I be missing.
Again asking what would be of names
If words had no meaning
And that those words carry codified
Information.
Have I said too too much or too little.
My brain is scrambled.
With what is safest way to remain silent.
What sound does a great secret kept
A great secret make.
I would say bringing art to life
Is about seeing life in the art.
And to observe how one operates.
Where we are or who we are
Should never really matter.
Even in a world without 
borders.

Are we not all just a bunch of persuasive
Puppeteers
Hanging on to suspense and intrigue
That we turn into great masters
Of words that have no meaning
Understood only as in basic information.

What is in store for us when we wander.
That is the only real explanation to everything
Even if not gods creative intent.

Not are we slaves to reason like the ancient philosopher's
Once thought of.

Instead, what if the language we've learned to decipher
Were merely symbiotic.
What if we thought of words not as we mean them,
But were magically described to us as if by the very 
Same nature or structureless idea of God given
Intention.

As if to speak of worship but without relationship to prayer.

And what if words just disappeared,
Not to be forgotten but ceased to exist
Into an abyss of emotions where your mind had
No control over.

Wouldn't that be lovely.