The last Book

I'm drawn to perdition 

Allured by the word

I write,on my page

By reading these words 

 

The title is silent

An unspoken word

As I open,the bindings

I  unlock a world 

 

I entered in silence 

A mystical world

Written,on pages

With spellbinding words

 

Parched are the pages

Letters and words

Absorbing,my eyes

My mind and my world

 

I turned  over pages

Beckoned to worlds

Enticed,by the flow

Of the transient words

 

Then full of dread

On heeding the words

I am,drawn in

From out of this world

 

I fall to the last

My page in the book

There, next to others

Dare you take a look

 

◄ The Weeping Tree

We are Sand ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses only functional cookies that are essential to the operation of the site. We do not use cookies related to advertising or tracking. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message