I sat at the back of the
Old library filled with books
From top to bottom. Stories
And memories long forgotten,
Like my own memory. Friends and
Lovers, tears and fears, signs
Of a raging storm.

Questions never to be answered,
Entire nations long forgotten.
A voiceless tree, broken.
Its stem like my spine
Is rotten. Happy sunshine
Mornings dark dull death
Filled nights, smiles hidden
Deep down never to see the lights.

I watch as stories of long lost
Lovers are told, questions
Of smiles and laughter Answered
By a sea of tears. One after
The other the truth begins to
Unfold. The greatest dreams
Scarier than the worst
Nightmares, yet I keep reading
Anxiously, searching for what is lost
A piece of you peacefully frozen
Deep with the frost.