Blah Blah Blah

Blah, Blah, Blah
Nothing to say
So much to think
Words are empty echoes
Meanings within the silence
Lost in the mists of paragraphs
Found in the libraries of books
Abandoned to the fires of hate
Created the love for imagination
Souls bought and sold for nothing
Just for remembrance of life
Some persevered for a short while
All lost to time eventually
Read for their meanings
Though contexts changed over time
Few write for the love and passion
Many for the fame and glory