Work of the words

All the words in this world
Could not form a consolation
to the despondent mind.
They seemed to be just letters
Arranging and rearranging themselves
and leaving no trace of their meanings.

The ears were echoing these futile words,
And somewhere was found some meaning
that seeped into the mind
to provide some relief and belief.

But how long would these words last
on the monitor of the mind,
until a screensaver diverts it?

And when will someone touch the mouse
to renew and revive the words?

Like a silly computer programme,
the mind runs,
dependent on external motivations.