Word War 1

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just different

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In the begining there was there was light...

In the form of a desk lamp, enabling me to write in the night time.

A feather and a ink pot.

The industrial revolution revolutionised it into a ball point.

Now I write with ease.

Freedom of speech to express my fantasys.

When I'm called by protocal to go vocal.

I summon my troops in groups like parts of speech.

Nouns on the flanks.

Adjectives on the rears.

Tryptronic as i switch into gear and let my verbs proceed without fear.

Action.

A blood bath of fallen alphabets.

Taken to the recycle bin by the rubber utensil.

Homonyms creating confusion like homophones mixed with maloproprism.

My words are living creatures untouched by spoonerism.

Because they clear...

Clear as water is through unstained glass.

Antonym to the codeine in my flask.

Imagine William Shakespeare saluting like Hitler, wouldn't you scream?

I know I would..it would look ridiculous..with his tight pants and Hilters facial hair.

No disrespect..just causing metaphors.

Planting seeds in your imagination.

A herbal plantion, of planting herbs, Tautology with adverbs..

Word war 1, where its 13 vs 13 equaling 26 like the number of alphabets.

One on one where there is no like, like a similie, beef between U n G.

Seperation of T and V with a hyphen...contradicting the naming of the idiot box.

We left clueless, as I've paid Cable, but there's no channel to enable, me to digest my pay.

Looking like a word starting with X, left astray playing the xylophone..alone..with a femur bone.

My jargon is complex like a finite verb with a thousand phrases but one meaning.

Verbosity to a point where it's meaningless.

But isn't war in the end..meaningless..fallen soldiers..dying for what?

The next episode...Word War2?