Language. The spoken word. Time heals all wounds…the burning never fades. People say it’s what sets us apart from animals. That, and birth control. Hunger, longing…oh, how your need invades. As defined by the dictionary: “audible, articulate, meaningful sound as produced by the action of the vocal organs.” Hot dark water falls…morning brings no light. Desolation in a breath, glory in a gasp, power lurking in music that can rip a soul from its body. Hell-bent, road calls…as you give up the fight. "I’ll be back for these." Walk away from me. Don’t look back. It’s what you do best. “So I try to say goodbye my friend…I'd like to leave you with something warm”

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