"in the end, words are just wind", so it was once said but this is not what I think, words are keys to the soul, unlocking inner thoughts preserved within. without words all we would have is a world of silence, less potential for anger or hurt, sure, but without the truth or emotion that makes us more than just animalistic or mindless. to me, words are the perfect kind of mortal's clay, where we can fashion from lesser parts and pieces a more noble purpose and picture that keeps precious moments still in a painting, while all around us life continues to change, altering in shape. with words I can freeze-frame capture the intents I'd otherwise be left to let internally simmer, slowly boiling over the brain while roasting the heart over a fireless dinner, a sum of expressions overcooked and overstated by failures. but! fortunate for me that Allah gave me this ability to think and keep on writing, while gravity is ever-grounding and this life by its distances overcrowding, I can formulate with letters the Wings and mechanisms to visualize what's far better, elevating a hope that my meaning soars by His permission, landing in the chests of those keeping torches lit through these lifetimes of winter.