Open the tome
An abiding hex scrawled across it's leaves
Enveloped in filthy fingerprints
He agonizes the recitation
Mantras blaring as tears sizzle from his eyes
In the oubliette
Black the wool here bleats he
A simple word uttered in abiding boon
He looks up at once
He looks up
Here looking up
Spider silk of respite shimmers faint
He ties a gentle bow around the bound book
Should it stay sealed by the line
He'd look up to climb
Should the strand hold
He'd pass through the light and howl a prayer for a lifetime
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