Expressions - if only I could live up to the aspiration

To say what's on my mind - I write. Some say this self expression's right. But say, do I the right possess To conjure feelings which distress? To hurt the body is unkind. Do we resist to hurt the mind? A word's intangible attack Leaves pain and scar without a smack. Words cunning crafted by skilled wright Convert mere thought to magic rite, And if they're framed with dark intent What right have I these thoughts to vent? Phrases woven, spells and charms, Rendering comfort and dire harms, Entrusted with a calming power Or to crush ones inner flower. With bitter words, distress we make, Trailing tangles, hearts we break. In what way is pain of mind Than fleshly torment less unkind? The words that I so glibly write Are wrapped in thunderclouds of might. In form, quite empty, vacuous, soft But dealing lightning from aloft. And so I wish that from my pen No poisons ever flow again. But even as these lines I write With bitter barbed riposte I fight.