Some meaningless words.

A trickle of words leaves the lips,
All sense and purpose slips,
And those who wish to find,
Find what they wish,

A wish to tell, a desire felt,
A feeling which, in the mind dwelt,
And those who speak in words,
Words to them speak back

In silence, everything dealt,
Yet meaning has still meant,
And those who mean what they say,
Say what means to be said

And still comprehension is flawed,
Words stripped through and clawed,
And those who find peace in it,
Peace they find sooner than all

Of them who prefer closed lips more,
And still hope for a loud mute roar,
And those who take pride in that,
That pride is all they have left.

If sense still makes sense anymore,
And drowned corpses still reach the shore,
Then for those waiting for the end,
End will have to wait some more.