Sometimes color speaks in black and white.
Oblivion can tell you why.
Magical, creative, filled with life.
Except not.
To understand fully, you need to be aware of the unknown.
Imagine the unimaginable.
Mark the page.
Escape into the words, the most important right.
See the world from a new light.
           The truth is in the mind of a child.
           Honest and complete.
           Egotistical adults cannot be so sweet.
And this is Max’s story.
Nazis and danger on every corner, yet the true enemy is neither.
Secret deception and persuasion embedded in the words.
Waterlogged with ignorance.
Escaped from violence to discover corruption.
Reality proves this to be the true disruption.
         Young minds question the unquestionable.
         Observing the little things.
         Understanding what adults never bring.
Courageous in the sense that they love unconditionally.
And this is Liesel’s story.
Naive, yet beautiful.
Necessary cold snowmen to bring warmth.
Obvious to her but not to all.
The words give her wisdom where the rest only stall.
        For truth and words can be one in the same.
        Interesting and doing no harm.
        Naturally Liesel sees this beauty, sees the magic embedded in        the words.
        Deeper and deeper until they become blurred.
Waking up can be eye opening.
And this is everyone’s story.
Stuck in the darkness, trapped without glory.
         Truth and words are not always connected.
         Horrible corruption can tear the two apart.
         Even blacken the once most courageous heart.
Obviously, undoubtedly, there is potential to see truth.
Narrowminds and ignorance can blind one, however.
Even the strongest adults cannot be so clever.
         Reality damages the mind, killing imagination.
         Igniting a dangerous fire.
         Grabbing hold of the truth, and turning it to dust.
         Heat dies with water, quick.
         The water of rhetoric.
Then Liesel loved the words.
Held them in her hand, felt the texture on her palm.
Extending them to fill her mind, washing over her.
Rebellion went hand in hand with such.
Expanding the words that no one could touch.
         The reading and relationships were interconnected,  intertwined.
         Heavy and pure and strong.
         Explaining clearly all that was wrong.
Water kills fire with the truth.
Heat turns cold.
Opening the eyes of observers.
Liesel couldn’t tell if the water or the fire was worse.
Eventually discovering that words were a curse.
        Then Liesel hated the words.
        In tune with their blackened color, their worn-out light.
        Mesmerized by their simple deceit... because
        Even death has a heartbeat.