Misappropriation

Be there any words,
Any words beyond despair,
Of laxity and vagrance of meaning,
Lost to wind and air?

Of such a fragile state,
Words work with word's intent,
Penman's temporary webbing,
Woven thoughts with hope to set;

But past dances thru to present,
Side step, forward and glide,
Light shines on day's perspective,
Intention hard to find;

No mortar, glue or pegament,
Holds author's grip to page,
The words let free to propagate,
For strangers to engage;

Were pages left to sob,
To mourn misread intention,
To wet the leaf before your eyes,
With readers lost direction;

Or cry aloud for all to hear,
Abscond or misappropriation!
The theft of pen's delight a sound,
Torn roots of my creation;

But what's another?
And where to turn,
No blade of light shines option,
Without prefer,
We stay interred,
Penning thought with caution.