Pestilence

Words spread like viruses,
Releasing venom to every tongue they touch.
Once you're poisoned, you are poison
And people treat you as such.
You hold on by your index finger,
The very digit that has betrayed you so.
Eyes that have now caught flame
Spit the inferno at you as they glow.
Fasten a button on your lips,
And sew your fingertips to the ground
Because once you prompt night,
You'll be haunted by the sound.
The sound of voice,
And the sound of rue.
Now wave good-bye
To the faces you knew.
Bow and be conquered
Or drown while your wings tear,
For you will soon be feeble
Crashing back down the stairs.