“All I have is my word.”
I said, in near desperate ambition.
“And you have it.”

So I continued
My words grew in length
And depth

And I lost track of which I knew
And which had been fabricated
Needs must when the devil drives
I hardly knew
The latter from the former

“All I have is my word.”
I said, doubled over in shame
“And I have lost it.”

The loss was shattering
Breathtaking, even
Beautiful, maybe

He told me in my ruin,
“Let the dead bury their dead.”
Words cannot be meaningless
And I am not dead
Yet

All I have is my word
And we are forgiven