Plato's Cave Art

We who style ourselves
Composers of words,
Including these words,
Composers themselves,
However awful,

Practice a damned art
In a smoky light
In a labyrinth
That may be a maze,
A church or a cave,

But except perhaps
For calligraphy
And hand-chiseled glyphs
Has no art in it
Beyond how it sounds

And what it might mean
To someone well-versed
In the given tongue.
Language can't be left
In the dark alone

To signify life
Or death without lives
To interpret it:
Can't be left to be,
To mean, but be mute.