Words flying round
like aliens from space
from a vacant planet
landing on pages
barren of life
now breathing ink
fighting off fatigue
as the battle rages on
to connect the blots
into human form.
Take me to your leader
one would suggest
would be the battle cry
as words are now caught
in the crossfire
waving a white flag
retreating, retweeting
to reach the people
who gaze in wonder
as the heated exchange
lands once more
on pages of hope
with sounds of thunder
roaring across the sky.

Words, like aliens,
exist.